"Hey, look who's here," Zett observed. I glanced up from where I was sitting on the floor, trying to etch something into my light saber.

"Who?"

"One of the Jedi masters."

"Yoda?"

"No, this one's human."

I stood up and joined him where he was leaning on the railing of the balcony, arms folded on top of it. A young man strode purposefully through the halls below us, his robes billowing around him.

"That's Master Obi-Wan," I said, glancing at Zett. "You honestly didn't recognize him?"

"They all look the same to me," he responded. "With the beards and everything?"

I glanced at him, skeptically taking in his ten-year-old profile, his bushy blond hair, his gray eyes. Looking for any sign that he was joking. I didn't see any.

"I wonder what he's doing here," I said, changing the subject as I glanced down at Obi-Wan. He seemed to be heading for the training rooms, where Master Yoda was working with the younglings. Bear Clan, if I wasn't mistaken. I remembered my days before I was assigned a master. Learning to rely on the others in my clan, especially Zett. Dreaming of the day when I would be able to leave the temple, when I would truly be a padawan.

Unfortunately, having a master didn't necessarily mean that you got to go with them wherever they went. My separation from my own master was proof enough of that.

"Let's go find out." Zett started to walk away, gesturing for me to follow him. I did, despite my misgivings.

"Spying on a Jedi?"

"There's nothing better to do."

"Cin'll kill you if he finds out."

Zett's face tightened slightly at the mention of his temporary master, Cin Drallig, Battlemaster of the Temple.

"Cin has no jurisdiction over me."

"But he's your master," I pointed out, walking beside him. "You're his padawan. He—"

"Mierme was my master," he said quietly. I didn't reply. Mierme Unill, his first master, the one that he was assigned to at the age of five. The war hero. Whom had been slain in full view of his apprentice by a masked Sith, on the battlefield, fighting for the future of our Republic...

Zett was nine at the time, and a commander. He came back thin, silent, and scarred. Greeted by me, a whiny, sheltered child bitter over having only left the Temple once and being abandoned by my master, I'm amazed that he was still willing to be friends with me. Though he smiled a lot more now than he had at first.

"Hurry up, Nakomi, we're losing him. I can't believe your last name's Swift."

"I can't believe they even let you in the temple, Master I-Still-Can't-Hold-a-Light-Saber-the-Right-Way," I countered. It was true; the technique that Yoda had drummed into us ever since we were capable of lifting one of the weapons continued to elude him.

"Where are you two going in such a hurry?"

I stopped and whirled around. Hesid Gavada, red-haired bane of my existence. His was a situation almost identical to mine. Sheltered within the Jedi Temple his whole life (other than his journey to the caves of Ilum), left behind when his master Ki-Adi-Mundi headed to Mygeeto. You would think that this would make us willing to put aside our past differences (him kissing me when we were still younglings, me hitting him with the butt of my light saber as restitution, him pushing me down a flight of stairs in revenge, etc.), but, unfortunately, we went at each other like Separatists and Loyalists.

"That's none of your business, Gavada," I snapped. "Shouldn't you be off crying for your master somewhere?"

"Shouldn't you?" he countered, raising an eyebrow. I glared at him as he walked around us, placing himself directly in our path.

"Get out of my way."

"Or what? You'll cut me in half? You're a bit small and pretty to be Obi-Wan, dear Nakomi."

"And you're a bit clumsy and ugly to be Darth Maul," I spat back. Hesid just laughed.

"Trust me, Swift, if we were to spar, my light saber would be going into you."

I felt heat rise to my cheeks, but before I could call him out for being truly disgusting, Zett took a step forward.

"That sort of talk's more suited to the outer colonies," he suggested. "You know what they do to kids like you out there? Light sabers are the least of your worries, let me tell you..."

Hesid seemed to falter for a moment, then he smiled and said, "Ah, yes, the high and mighty Commander Jukassa. Your parents must be so proud. Seen them lately?"

I gasped, and my hand flew to the light saber hanging at my waist, though not as fast as Zett's. How dare Hesid mention his parents. Parents were sacred, anonymous entities, kept from us by the Jedi Order, because it was believed that they would interfere with our training. One had to give everything to become...well, to become like us. Family was one of those things. But Zett. Zett had seen his parents, in dreams that told of their savage murders at the hands of the same Sith that had later killed his master.

But he let his hand drop, and restrained me before I could pull out my weapon.

"Nakomi," he said in a low voice, "he's nothing. Let him go."

"So you've got a padawan now?" Hesid asked, raising an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware you'd passed the trials, but I guess that if they made you a commander, they can make you a Jedi. But I was sure that Nakomi was under the tutelage of Aayla Securum. Has she died? I bet the droids got her, eh? Pulled off her antennae, one by—"

He barely had time to get up his blue light saber before my green one clashed with it, sending multicolored sparks skidding across the floor. Zett was shouting, and reaching for me, but Hesid and I were too fast. We were taking place in the sort of rapid-fire fight-dance sword-play that I had only dreamed of until now. I saw fear on his face, and my anger only increased. How dare he talk about Aayla that way. I was going to kill him. Cut him in half, just like Obi-Wan had done with Darth Maul. Years before my birth, but still.

Suddenly, Hesid slipped. I dove on top of him, a slash that would have gone right through his chest barely blocked by his light saber. Breathing hard, I leaned close to him, narrowing my eyes with malice.

"I could kill you," I breathed. "Right here, right now. No one would care. You're so weak in the force, so small, so ugly, not even your master loves you, and I'm—"

"Youngling," someone hissed, grabbing the back of my shawl and hauling me bodily off of Hesid. My light saber was ripped out of my hands, and I tilted my head back, looking up into the furious face of Master Obi-Wan. "What were you doing?"

"I—I was—" My tongue seemed frozen in my mouth. I couldn't think of a good lie. What had I been doing, anyway? Fighting with another padawan within the confines of the Temple?

"She was trying to kill me, Master," Hesid said grimly, getting to his feet with a noble look on his face. Playing the part of the martyr.

"He provoked us," Zett cut in, pointing at Hesid, who, glared at him. Obi-Wan glanced at them both, then back to me.

"Is this true?"

"Yes, Master Obi-Wan," I said meekly. "I—I wasn't trying to kill him! I just—"

He let go of my shawl, and turned off my light saber, bending down so that he was face-to-face with me.

"What's your name?"

"Nakomi Swift."

"I've heard about you from the other Jedi. They say that you're promising. That the only one with more control over the force than you is young Skywalker."

"Master Anakin?" I blinked. "I...I don't think I'm better than him, Master."

"I didn't say you were."

I waited in awkward silence as his dark blue eyes flicked over my face.

"What did you feel when you attacked Hesid, Nakomi?"

"I felt angry."

"Did you hate him?"

I glanced at Hesid. I remembered his remarks to me, his speculations about Aayla's fate. "Yes."

"You let those emotions rule you, didn't you."

It wasn't a question. "Yes, Master."

"Are you aware that that is the path to the Dark Side?"

I couldn't suppress a shudder of horror. The Dark Side was something that we speculated about after lights out, trying to scare each other. No padawan worth her light saber was disturbed by it any more at my age. But try as I might, it still got to me. The idea that there was another side of the force, a darker one, one that could turn a Jedi into a monster...

"Y-yes, Master. I'm sorry, Master. It won't happen again."

"No." Obi-Wan was still studying me. "I'm sure it won't."

"May I...may I have my light saber back now, Master Obi-Wan?"

"I'm afraid not, Nakomi." He stood up, and turned me around, placing a hand between my shoulder blades. "Come with me."