The three sat in uncomfortable silence for many minutes in the Jedi airspeeder as they made their way to the Temple. Zro-Don was finally able to focus the Force onto his wounds, easing the pains in his bruised ribs, lightly massaging his side with his palm. Jul-tor finally broke the silence after what seemed like an eternity.
"Forgive me if I seem frank but who is your Master? I don't seem to remember your face or name at the Temple." He turned to face him, "but you do have an uncanny resemblance to Klo Gun, are you two related?"
"Quite possibly" Zro-Don rasped out, "I do not know much about my family, and when it comes to my status as an apprentice..." He paused, feigning a ragged breath to give him a moment to think of a good lie, "My lightsaber was an inheritance, a family treasure that was left to me when they were killed by bandits," He feigned another ragged breath, "I have Force capabilities, just wanted to request training."
"That's terrible!" Xavier exclaimed, his eyes wide from bewilderment, "How did you raise yourself?
"Let us not delve too deep if the lad is not ready," Jul-tor interjected sternly.
"It is quite alright," Zro-Don remarked, "I used my wits and strength of will to live Xavier." He turned to the window, "Sorry to cut my story short but we are here."
Jul-tor nodded as the speeder hummed to a stop, and the door swung open slowly. A team of medical Jedi were waiting on hand for them as one led Zro-Don to a chair and they ran him to the infirmary. The drugs promptly knocked Zro-Don out, and the last thing he remembered was a calm figure standing over him muttering words he couldn't quite make out.
Zro-Don woke up in a daze, he tired to see what time it was, and hit the chronometer on the desk.
Its been a couple days, must have been more injured than I thought. He slid off the bed and found his things hanging off the wall.
He quickly got dressed, his lightsaber and gear were all accounted for. At least they're not thieves. He thought as he stepped into the hall, almost slamming into a larger Kel Dor female.
"Zro-Don I presume?" He voice was icy, yet serene at the same time. "Are you doing well son?"
"Err, yes ma'am," He bowed reluctantly. "Thank you for the medical attention, I shan't be in your way long." He said in Keldoran.
"Follow me young one." She said, motioning down the hall. "From what I hear, your tale is a complicated one. Orphaned and left with naught but a lightsaber, may I see your eyes?" Again her voice chilled the bone.
Zro-Don complied and took off his mask, his eyes were momentarily blinded from having the filters removed, and he held his breath. His silver irises sparkled out in the bright hallway light.
"Silver eyes, the mark of the force..." She remarked, almost amused. "I'm sorry, I have not introduced myself, I am Grandmaster Pym-Mal."
Zro-Don quickly donned his mask again to breath and unblind himself.
"It is truly an honor above me." He said, nodding in reverence.
"Do not worry about such formalities." She said putting a taloned hand on his shoulder. "Your demeanor shows that you are not untrained, the council would like to have a word with you." She turned to a door and it opened with a room full of elder Jedi sitting in a circle.
Zro-Don's heart beat with anticipation. He could feel the Force surging throughout the room, it almost was palpable. He walked in, following Pym-Mal and she took her seat at the center. All eyes seemed to be focused on him, almost as if searching through his soul. He focused on the Force to calm himself, to hide his nature for being there, when a tall human next to Pym-Mal spoke up.
"He is of Dark Side." He said flatly.