A/N: Hello all! "Liberation" is the second in our series of unfinished works that we are only now just publishing! Depending on how things work out however it might end up being completed. Either way this story, despite dealing with darkness directly, is much lighter than many of our others, and holds some of our favorite scenes! Looking forward to sharing it! As always, reviews are much appreciated! Let us know what you think!

"Liberation" takes place sometime after "Yet the Force" though can be read without the other!


Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.

The Force shall free me.


It was a good ten minutes before Tyro pulled himself away from the window of their top story room in the high rise hotel. The speeders flying past, the seemingly endless expanse of buildings stretching into the sunset, descending into glowing, cheerful neon and lights down below. The city here on Serenno was different than Coruscant to be sure, but the feeling of so many people, the life of the city and those in it, felt almost the same in the living force. It was a buzzing, whirring, vibrant feeling, as packed and contrasting as the innumerable colorful flashing lights of the stores and businesses and homes. Many Jedi claimed cities felt disorienting, all that life like chaos to them, but for Tyro it was a feeling he had missed - a feeling of home.

Tyro glanced at the chrono between the two sleep couches. Ten minutes before Gavyn had said they had to go. He had way more than enough time. Besides, who had ever heard of being punctual to a party? Though perhaps this fell more under the category of those diplomatic ceremonies that he used to have to attend with his old master. At any rate, he had already taken a shower and Gavyn was hogging the bathroom, so it wasn't like there was much else he could be doing.

Finding the large mirror by the bathroom door, Tyro gave his outfit a quick once-over. Not too bad. He had changed his tunic already, his other one was was sweaty enough that even he could smell it. He pulled up the left part of his tabard from under his obi to hide a burn mark, looked at it a moment more, then pulled up the other side to match. No one would notice, probably. And if they did, well...he could tell the truth, that he had gotten it from barely dodging a blaster bolt while fighting for this city. It was a good story, and relevant to tonight, considering this party was for the liberation of the city by the Republic and all that. People liked war stories.

He contemplated putting on his robe, but it was so much extra weight, and it got hot, and while they were designed for fighting in, it still felt like it limited his movement. Besides, that was more of Gavyn's look anyway. Perhaps when he was a Jedi Master he'd get more used to them.

Hair looked pretty good too. Tyro turned his head sideways, grinning in approval of his mohawk. He had dyed it again recently, as solidly vibrant green as he could hope. His braid had grown out too, not by much, it barely came down to his chin from above his ear, but that was twice as long as when he had gotten it. He ran it through his fingers, it was getting frizzy, and the bit of Gavyn's hair woven into it was starting to stick out at an odd angle from the silver band at the bottom; he was going to have to ask his Master to rebraid it. His smile softened as he reached the end though. It was a simple thing, but it made him feel like a real Jedi Padawan again.

Usually, it didn't take much for Gavyn to prepare himself for a formal event. He had a clean set of robes that he wore when he didn't expect action. His hair was getting on the longer side now, but he never had a problem with it falling neatly into place with a bit of a brush through. However, he had recently grown out a beard, and he was surprised how much work it took to make it look presentable. It was never a problem- in fact is was often convenient- in the field.

And so, he kept Tyro waiting outside, while he meticulously trimmed it down until it didn't look like he had been groomed by a rancor. When he was finally satisfied, he stepped outside, to his disappointment.

Tyro's hair was still stuck straight into the air. He didn't even have his robe on. "I thought I told you to get ready." Gavyn sighed, exasperated.

"I am ready!" Tyro announced with a grin, stepping back from the mirror to show Gavyn. "I was waiting for you. They're going to have dinner and dessert there right? Do you think there will be anyone my age?"

He was ready? Gavyn furrowed his brow, and bit his knuckle. Tyro, in his current state, was not close to presentable for dignitaries. He grew up on Coruscant, he should know that. "Yes, yes, you can eat there." Gavyn quickly answered as he tried to figure out where to begin to tell Tyro how he misstepped.

"I don't think there will be many people your age, Tyro." He told him. "The aristocracy on this planet tends to be made of older folks, who are not going to have an appreciation for your hair up like that." It was bad enough that he had just re-dyed it. Gavyn had just thought it was his natural hair color, which was odd, but the fact Tyro chose to color his hair like that was even odder. "You should comb it down. And where is your robe? You shouldn't be representing the Jedi without your robe, it adds a sense of… dignity."

"It's in my pack but I look fine without it," shrugged Tyro. "The rest of this is what Jedi wear too, and it's not like I want to be one of those dignified Jedi anyway. I don't usually wear my robe so what's the problem?"

Gavyn did not look satisfied.

"And I am not changing my hair," Tyro insisted. That was stupid, how he looked was who he was, no one should ever be forced to fake that. "My hair looked like this when we took the city, and that is what this party is for right? If I can save people with a mohawk, I can go to a party with one too."

In his pack? "You didn't hang it up?" Gavyn shook his head. It was bound to have wrinkles in now, being all shoved inside luggage.

"You can tie your hair back, or you'll find yourself with no hair at all tomorrow morning." Gavyn teased, as he waved the laser shears he used to trim his beard. He shrugged on his own robe, straightening out the way the cloth folded. He looked over Tyro with a brow raised, as though he was surveying him. "You're right, you don't need to wear the robe. This makes you look much more like a youngling. They'll find it adorable."

Gavyn was goading him, but he was trying to learn the best ways to get Tyro to go along with him. He had a rebel streak to this sort of thing that made him resist direct orders. It would be better if he understood the implications of what he was wearing instead. Gavyn was naturally aware of the signals he sent to people, whether it was intimidation or charm. Tyro… had yet to learn those skills.

"I'm not-" Tyro started to protest but not before he caught a glimpse of the mirror. Gavyn looked so tall, so strong and wise, so much like a Jedi master, standing behind him in the reflection. People respected a Jedi like that. And while people Tyro knew respected him for other reasons...the two looked nothing alike.

With a sigh Tyro released the small bit of the force he used to keep his hair up, letting his once formidable mohawk flop back onto the short buzzed green hair covering the rest of his head. Despite his light tone, there was no doubt in his mind that Gavyn was serious about cutting it off.

Mumbling an excuse about looking for something to tie his hair back with, Tyro made his way over to where he had tossed his pack near. As nonchalantly as possible he picked up it up with his foot, flipping it into his hand and placing it on the bed. He rifled around in it for a moment, hands wrapping around the rough fabric of his robe. His eyes flicked to Gavyn, then out the window. It looked like it would be cold tonight, he excused before pulling his robe out and shrugging it on. He brandished the hair tie he had pulled out as well, letting Gavyn know he had what was really after, of course, before making his way back over to the mirror where he hastily finger-combed the tuft of hair on his head into a high ponytail. "Better?" Tyro sighed.

"Better." Gavyn confirmed, with a satisfied smirk. Working with a teenager again was taking some getting used to, but slowly, and surely he was figuring it out. Bumping into Mai ended up being a decent reminder of what his life before the war had felt like, and how he took the role of Master instead of General before. In time, Tyro would learn why it was important to look your best for these kinds of functions, but he would need to attend them first to get the picture. And to attend, he had to be coerced into formal wear.

He turned to the side, examining the look, then took a moment to smile at it. Like this he looked kind of like one of the Jedi warriors he saw in illustrations in older texts. Some of the Masters now even wore their hair this way still.

Gavyn's demands satisfied, that left one thing, more important than his hair or robe. "Master," Tyro turned back tentatively, hoping there was still time, "er, before we go, can you fix my braid?

Fix his braid… Gavyn tilted his head to get a look at it, and could see it loosening up near the roots. "It grew out already?" Tyro's braid was shorter than most padawans his age, due to being cut off after he was sent to agricorps, through time flew by in the middle of a war. He gestured for Tyro to turn, and combed out the braid with his fingers, before carefully separating out the strands again. Working quickly, Gavyn was rebraided it, including the beads Tyro had earned. Jedi didn't have the same kind of badges and awards that the clones did, so this was Gavyn's way of recognizing Tyro's efforts on the battlefield. His master had done something similar for him, as a Padawan. When he was training Mai, he braided in a new bead on each of her birthdays. However, with Tyro… well, there was no certainty that either one of them would make it through another month, nor likely until their next birthday with the war raging.

As soon as Gavyn finished, Tyro turned back to the mirror, stepping closer to examine his now neatly done braid. A smile spread across his face, growing wider as he ran his hand down the pleats, past the purple first bead Gavyn had given him after Loronar, over the crystal one he had received when he had found himself in the force again, to land on the new third bead, a brilliant blue one, one for each strand of hair in his braid now.

He stared at it a moment, letting it catch the light then spun back around to Gavyn, barely containing his excitement. "You mean it? I get a new one? What is this one for?"

Gavyn grinned, happy to see Tyro pleased with the new commendation. "This one is for command. You showed exceptional leadership during the battles to claim the city. I think that the troops are really warming up to you." Gavyn explained.

Most of the the troops at least. Ace still had his doubts about Tyro, but even he was starting to see Tyro's value in the legion. Gavyn was starting to realize that for a clone, Ace didn't enjoy taking orders. His allegiance to Gavyn's command seemed to be mostly sentimental.

Tyro glowed at the praise, smile growing wider, if it was at all possible. "Thank you Master!" he exclaimed with a quick small bow.

"Now hurry up." Gavyn encouraged, ushering Tyro out the door. The party was starting just about now, and he didn't find anything fashionable about being late.