Hellow again. It's been quite a while since I published anything, but this story was just begging to be written, and I really enjoy these characters. For those of you who are new to this story, I would highly recomend reading "The New Guy" first, as it will make a lot more sense.

I do not own Star Wars.

"No, not like that." Try as she might, Jedi Knight Edrasi Nyine couldn't keep a hint of frustration from her voice. Her unlikely student had no such qualms. Fib scowled at her from under sweat dampened red hair from where he was perched on her bed.

"There's no point to this," he growled, this time directing his glare at the comlink that sat stubbornly motionless in the empty space between the bed and the door. For all his attempts, the comlink had barely moved an arm's length in the last five hours. Tempers were wearing thin on both sides.

Edi pinched the bridge of her nose and drew in a deliberately calming breath. This is why I never took a Padawan, she reminded herself sourly. And yet here she was, attempting to teach her clone medic how to summon things to himself with the Force. The lesson had not been going well.

"There is a point," the Jedi replied with forced calm. "Healing is only one aspect of the Force. Picture a gem. There are many sides, each unique, each casting its own special light, but without the others—"

Her carefully built—and, in her opinion, well done—metaphor was interrupted by a rude snort from the bed. The last of Edi's thinly warn patience snapped. "Fine," she spat, in a rarely shown display of temper. "If you think this is so pointless, then just go! Get out of my room. I don't want to see you for the rest of the day!"

"The feeling's mutual," Fib snapped. He was off the bed and out the door in a heartbeat, so fast that Edi's bangs fluttered with the breeze of his passing.

With the door closed, Edi felt free to indulge in a rather childish display of frustration. She kicked viciously at her mattress, growling under her breath. "Kriffing medics, kriffing Force, kriffing Force-sensitive clones!"

Yet, when she'd finished abusing her mattress, Edi felt more empty than vindicated. With a world weary sigh, she sank down on to her bed and cradled her head in her hands. I really should have handled that better. I'm the Master here, it's my job to guide my student and set an example. Instead of remaining calm and talking the problem out, she had behaved like a petulant toddler and thrown a tantrum. Edi made a face at the thought. But I need Fib to work with me, too. I can't do this all by myself. He needs to meet me halfway. Her sigh this time was one of exasperation and confusion. Why was he being so difficult?

Edi settled herself more comfortably on the bed and sank into the calming currents of the Force. Ripples of light filled her with each breath, calming and soothing away the rough-warn edges of her emotions. As peace washed over her, her mind cleared, allowing her to examine the problem more clearly without her emotions to cloud her perception. She turned it this way and that, studying it, allowing the Force to guide her to a new and deeper understanding of her reality.

Fib was frustrated, yes. He was used to things coming easily to him, used to tangible things that he could grasp and aim and shoot. The intangible realm of the Force was an altogether new experience, a murky world where thoughts and intentions were truer than even the most solid barricade. It was altogether too easy to forget, having grown up in the Temple, that Fib had only come into his powers seven months ago. I need to be patient, Edi realized. It will come to him in his own time, not mine. But there was more to Fib's hostility than simple frustration. If that was the only problem, they could have cleared it up with some basic meditation. The root of the problem lay deeper, buried beneath Fib's outward display of rudeness.

When Edi finally hit upon it, she could have smacked herself for missing something so obvious. He's scared. No, he's terrified. Only Jedi were supposed to have access to the Force, or so the clones seemed to have been taught. The idea that one of them could draw on the same power that the Jedi wielded came close to hypocrisy. Fib was terrified of what his ability to touch the Force made him. He wasn't, could never be, a Jedi. He was much too old. And yet he was no longer fully a clone either, having abilities that none of his brothers could ever truly understand. He was set adrift, separated from both groups by circumstances that were beyond his control. For someone raised in such a close-knit community and trained from birth that the only way to survive was to depend wholly on your brothers, such isolation was petrifying.

Fib was afraid of what his brothers would think if they discovered the truth. Remembering Shades's initially hostile reaction, Edi couldn't disagree with that fear. Fib also dreaded what he might do to his brothers if he ever lost control. He would never intentionally hurt them, but untrained Force-sensitives had been known to injure, or even kill, people by accident when their uncontrolled powers reacted to strong emotions. But that's why he needs training. So he can control it, not the other way around.

Edi allowed herself to rise out of the Force, buoyed up on a breath and coming back to herself on the exhalation. She stared listlessly at her desk, which had altogether too much flimsy work on it for her peace of mind. Now that she had a better grasp of the situation, she felt even more guilty for having let her frustration get the better of her.

Fib is one of my boys. It's my job to take care of him and be an anchor when he needs one. I'm the only one who can really understand what he's going through right now, and when he doesn't understand something I snap at him and send him packing. I know him well enough to understand that all that rudeness is just to cover up what he's really feeling. I was no better than Master Nivix.

Memories of her old master rose unbidden to the surface of Edi's mind. He had never had any patience for what he had termed her "excuses." Any Padawan of his was expected to understand a lesson the first time. If they didn't, it was due to some failing of their own, not his teaching.

They say we imitate our parents with our own children. No matter how much we tell ourselves that we'll be different, we'll do better, when push comes to shove we all fall back on the only real way we know how to handle things. How our parents taught us.

With a grunt of disgust Edi pushed away such fatalistic thoughts. They were full of self-pity, and in the end, they were only an excuse. Jedi did not make excuses.

Reaching out with the Force, Edi had no trouble finding Fib. His green Force-light was in the Starlight's medbay. She didn't have to touch him to gage his emotional state. Frustration and worry twisted together in a confusing knot shot through with yellow flashes of genuine hurt. Despite his outward show of indifference, Edi's display of temper had hurt him.

Even as her own guilt flared accusingly, Edi couldn't suppress her pleasure at the ease with which she was able to commune with Fib in the Force. It was almost seven months to the day when Separatist sympathizers had attacked Renegade Company's base on Haashimut. Fib had been severely injured by shrapnel when a missile struck the base. In a desperate attempt to save his life, Edi had reached for him in the Force, merging their consciousness. She had discovered not only that Fib was an untrained Force-user, but that he had an astonishing gift for healing. In an effort to help him use his as yet unknown ability to heal himself, she had somehow tangled herself up in him, leaving a bit of her Force presence behind when she left and taking some of him with her. Edi had completely unintentionally created the beginnings of a Force-bond similar to that shared between a Jedi Master and her Padawan. And even though it was only seven months old, it was already stronger than the one Edi had shared with her own Master. It was something that she had made on her own, something that Master Nivix had no claim in.

Family is more than blood, or even Force-bonds. The family that really matters is the one we make ourselves.

Soothed by these thoughts, Edi touched Fib through the Force, conveying her guilt and how sorry she was that she'd snapped at him. At first his presence retreated, giving her the Force version of the cold shoulder. Always so stubborn. But when she didn't pull away Fib did reach back, communicating his own feelings of grudging acceptance and an apology. He hadn't meant to hurt her, either. Fib's thoughts were abruptly elsewhere as one of his unfortunate patients caught his attention.

As Edi eased back into her own mind she smiled in amusement. Karic was going to with he hadn't tried to sneak out of medbay while he thought Fib was distracted.

The comlink still sitting in the middle of the floor beeped. Edi called it to herself with the Force and flicked the acknowledgement key.

"General Nyine, this is the bridge."

"Nyine here. Go ahead, Foaly."

"Sir, we've got an incoming message for you in the comm room from General Nivix."

Edi froze halfway to the door. Something cold and heavy settled in her stomach. It took her two tries before her throat would open enough for her to speak. "Thank you, Foaly. Tell the general that I'll be right with him. And have captain Thorn meet me in the comm room."

"Will do, sir. Bridge out."

After the comlink went dead Edi didn't move right away. She just stood where she was, staring with slight defocus at the door frame. Then with a violent shake of her head, she stepped into the hall and headed for the comm room.

Thorn arrived at the comm room out of breath, scrubbing furiously at his still damp hair with one hand and clutching his helmet with the other. The comm from the bridge had come just as he was stepping out of the shower. There'd been no time to dry off. The captain had simply thrown his armor on and double-timed it to the comm room. Thorn wished vaguely that he'd had time to dry off. The water left over from the shower was causing his under suit to stick uncomfortably to his skin and rub with every movement. It was a distraction that he didn't want to deal with right then, but he didn't have many options.

Just grin and bear it.

General Nyine was already in the room when Thorn arrived. She was leaning nonchalantly against the wall across from the holo display, doing a credible enough job at looking relaxed. Thorn saw through the rues as soon as he entered the room. If anything, she was too relaxed, deliberately loose-limbed and casual with her arms crossed over her chest and one foot cocked out in front of her. The act would have fooled anyone else, but not a clone. Living in a sea of identical faces, it became a necessity to be able to tell your brothers apart by the smallest mannerisms, if only to avoid an embarrassing screw up. Thorn was better than most at reading people. He easily noted the slight tension in Edi's jaw and the faintest crease between her eyebrows. She was not happy about something.

"Sir." Thorn tossed her a perfunctory salute, which she returned more out of habit that because she was really acknowledging him. It had the intended effect. It got her moving and pulled her mind back from whatever thoughts were troubling her.

Edi glanced at her captain with rye amusement and gratitude. She knew perfectly well what he'd been doing. Her appreciative glance changed to one of surprise, then amusement.

"Well, well. Finally decide to indulge in some 'frivolous body art,' captain?"

Thorn's hand automatically leapt to his right cheek, and he felt the beginnings of a blush. He was well aware of the feelings he'd expressed to Edi on the topic of tattoos when they'd first met, but that was over two years ago. A man could change his opinion, right?

"Ah, yes. That…. You see, Sketch had his tats set out, and he'd already done Trawler and, well…yeah."

Edi's eyes sparkled in amusement at this less than eloquent explanation from a man who always seemed to know the right thing to say. "Well, don't be shy about it. Move your hand, I want to see."

Blushing furiously now, Thorn reluctantly lowered his hand. The skin on his cheek and neck was still tender and was now tingling uncomfortably as blood rushed to the surface. A pale green vine sprinkled with dark green thorns wound its way up the side of his neck from under the collar of his bodysuit and bloomed into a dark burgundy flower with gently curving petals emblazoned with orange tips on his cheek. A few thinner vines spread out from behind the flower, one following the curve of an eyebrow and another just barely touching the corner of his mouth. It has taken more than five hours to complete. In the end Sketch had pronounced it one of the finest tattoos he'd ever done.

Edi whistled in appreciation, smiling with obvious delight at the delicate artistry. Her finger ghoasted over Thorn's skin, tracing the vine that curved over his eyebrow.

"I must say, captain, when you commit to something, you really commit."

Thorn's lips twitched slightly. "It's how I was trained, sir."

Edi threw back her head and laughed. Any remaining tension drained away as she leaned against the wall to catch her breath. After whipping tears from her eyes, she straitened and flashed her second a smile of genuine affection. "Thanks, Thorn."

Thorn allowed himself to return the smile. "You're welcome, Edi. Now, should we see what General Nivix wants?"

Some of the amusement left Edi's eyes. "Yes," she murmured. "Yes, I suppose we should."

Please review.

mad'ika