It was easier to sneak out of the Jedi Temple than she'd anticipated; within minutes she was stepping out of one of the staff entrances, having timed the automated droid's movements as it completed its perimeter check. That was too easy for comfort, she thought as she made her way to one of the crossing points where she could hail an air-taxi. I hope getting back in won't be too difficult. She'd figured that she had until about 0400 to return to the Temple undetected, which was about the earliest that any of the Jedi rose to begin their days. After a few harried minutes, a taxi finally stopped, the droid driver hardly giving her a second glance as she slipped inside, giving her desired destination. It was a short ride, and Kali watched the vibrant city lights streaming by as they hurtled through the night. She paid with some credits left over from a mission-Jedi rarely carried any significant amount of money-and made her way back to the nightclub, her stomach churning.

Inside, it was cleaner than she'd expected, though most of the patrons were of the more unseemly variety, and Kali wondered briefly what Obi-wan would say if he had accompanied her. Probably something about how this is a bad idea, she thought with a grim smile, nodding to a couple of Rutanian females who were giving her the once-over. Truth be told, she didn't look that bad. A trip to one of the supply rooms had outfitted her with passable civilian clothes: dark, form-fitting pants and boots, and a pale gray, sleeveless tunic that accentuated her waist. She had even taken the time to brush her hair, though she hadn't been able to make up her mind how to wear it, so she'd left it loose, disguising her Padawan braid by pinning it across her hairline in what she hoped was a fashionable look. The goal was to appear as un-Jedi-like as possible, and she hoped that she'd done a sufficient job.

After a few minutes, she approached what appeared to be the maitre'd. He directed her to the rear of the club, behind the stage, where a Besalisk male was leaning against the wall, watching the performance; a pair of Human females were doing a fair approximation of a popular song.

"Excuse me, sir," Kalinda said. "Where do you sign up to sing?"

The large, four armed fellow gave her a curious glance, then shook his head. "You don't want to sing here, kiddo. You shouldn't even be in a place like this."

She frowned. "I'm old enough to decide that for myself, I think. How do I sign up?" She met his gaze, and after a moment he shrugged, and handed her a durasheet.

"Slow night. You're next. Pick any song from that list. And I'll need your name."

"Kamala," she replied after a moment's thought, scanning the sheet until her eyes fell on a song that she knew fairly well. She told him, he nodded and pointed to where she was to wait until it was her turn. As she stepped over to the stairs that led to the stage, the Besalisk gave her a wide grin. "Break a leg!" She gaped at him, and he let out a hearty chuckle, shaking his head. "Means good luck. Sheesh."

Kali smiles sheepishly, and took a deep breath as she was announced. It was exhilarating and wholly unfamiliar, being on the wide stage alone, bathed in the glittering lights from the mirrored globes that hovered above her. The spotlight that shone on her was too warm, and it prevented her from seeing anyone in the crowd clearly, but she found that she didn't really care once the music started, and she began to sing.

It was an older song, one she had listened to fervently when it had come out about two years ago, staying up into the wee hours with the personal music player that Jonas had given her on her birthday. The melody was complex, but the lyrics were fairly simple, though they echoed many of the feelings that she'd been experiencing lately: confusion, betrayal, and loss. As she sang, Kali felt the emotions that she'd held in check for so long begin to bubble forth, to make themselves known in this song, in this moment. She found herself getting lost in the music, adding flourishes and elongating words to enhance the song's influence, and when it was over, she found herself slightly disoriented, squinting in the bright lights as the audience erupted with a swell of cheers and applause.

She gave a quick nod, then turned and began to make her way off of the stage, but members of the crowd began to shout for more. The Besalisk, who was clapping as well, gave her thumbs-up, and motioned her back to the center of the stage. Hesitantly, Kalinda nodded, and called out another song from the list to him, the music beginning moments later.

She sang a total of five songs that nigh; when she was done, she was covered in sweat from the lights, and glitter from one of the dancers who'd snuck up on her in the final minute of the last song, covering her with the stuff. The Besalisk chuckled as she tried to brush off the worst of it after she'd left the stage.

"I must admit," he said, thumping her back and sending up a shower of gold and silver flecks. "You were pretty impressive, Kamala."

"It was fun," she replied, shaking out her tunic. "I might be back tomorrow, if that's okay."

He shook his head and she stopped, looking perplexed. "I meant what I said before," he explained. "You don't belong in a place like this, kiddo. Now, now, don't look like that," he said, seeing her eyes narrow. "I have another opportunity for you, if you want. I work as a cook at a little place about five blocks from here: The Chrysalis. The owner's looking to add some entertainment a few nights a week, and I think that you just might fit the bill. You'd need to bring your own music, though. She doesn't have a setup like this place."

Kalinda regarded him, mulling it over. "What kind of place?"

"Similar to this, minus the chance of...acquiring any illicit goods or, er, services," the Besalisk replied. "More...suited to a young lady like yourself."

"I'm perfectly able to take care of myself."

He spread his four hands in a gesture of placation. "I didn't say that, now. Just would set an old guy like me a bit more at ease, if you weren't hanging out at a strip club."

She glanced around, her eyes widening. "I didn't realize..."

"I suspected as much," he chuckled. "So, what do you think?" She made no reply and he sighed, pulling out a small card from his pocket. "Why don't you think about it? If you want, just come down here any time, and tell Joyle that Dexster Jettster sent you."

The hardest part of covering her tracks for that night was getting all of the glitter off of her clothes. In the end, Kali wound up shaking them off in the shower stall, sweeping them up with her palms, and flushing them down the toilet, though that only got rid of about seventy percent of the stuff. She shoved the clothes under her bed for now, showered, and managed to get a few hours of blissful, dreamless sleep before the morning chime sounded. When she woke, she felt oddly refreshed, instead of exhausted and sleep deprived as she had prepared herself for. The feeling dissipated, however, when she glanced at her schedule for the day: Lightsaber Training: Form I, Juniors. "Not with the kids, again," she groaned aloud. Glancing down at her knee, she sighed. Why won't you get better, already? she thought. I need to get out of that youngling class.

She opened her desk and was dismayed to see that she had no fruit; her growling stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon. Instead of making her way to the training room, she headed for the cafeteria, hoping that she could just duck in and out quickly to sate her hunger.

It was crowded this time of day, as usual, so she made her way directly to the line of Padawans and students that were docilely waiting for their turn to grab a tray. After she made her selections there was the deplorable question of where to sit, as they were not allowed to remove food from the cafeteria. Since the room was so packed there was no spot where she could tuck herself away, so she stood awkwardly for a moment, debating.

"Hey Kali! Over here!"

Kali glanced to her right as Bant Eerin waved her over, a welcoming smile on her face. Kali made to walk towards her, when the boy next to the Mon Calamarian girl turned so that she caught a glimpse of his face: Obi-wan. Her heart caught in her throat, but she pushed through the feeling, determined not to reveal her emotions. I'll just eat fast, she thought, setting her tray down across from Bant and Obi-wan. A moment later, Siri Tachi plopped down on Obi-wan's other side, handing him an extra serving of muja-sauce. Really fast.

Bant was clearly delighted to see her friend, and immediately struck up a conversation. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages, Kali! I've been working on some more compositions; we need to play together again, soon."

Kalinda nodded and gave the silver-eyed girl a small smile. "That would be good, Bant."

The smaller girl looked around the table, a grin on her face. "It's funny, we're all at the Temple at the same time...it reminds me of before we were Padawans!" She said the words unthinkingly, though the moment they left her mouth it was clear that she regretted them. Everyone looked at Kali out of the corner of their eye, the silence at their table audible.

The Padawan with no Master.

Kalinda stared at her plate, her appetite gone. Siri leaned over, and whispered something in his ear, and he replied, causing the blonde girl to giggle slightly. Her cheeks burning, Kalinda tried to ignore them and keep up the conversation with Bant, who was eager to rectify her error. Finally, when she could tolerate it no longer Kali stood up to go. However, something about the rapid motion moved her knee the wrong way and she felt a stab of pain-worse than it had been in a while. She gave an involuntary cry and dropped to the floor, her tray and leftover plates clattering around her.

The entire room was silent for a moment, then the chatter started up again as she began to pick herself back up. No one said anything to her, but she could feel their attention, which was just as bad.

"Here, let me help you," Obi-wan was beside her, offering his hand. She looked up at him, his serious expression fixed on her and felt tears threatening to fall.

"I'm okay," she whispered, gathering her tray and accouterments. "Don't worry about me, Ben." She used her old nickname for him, though for what reason she couldn't have said, so he nodded and went back to sit beside Siri, who gave him an odd look.

Kali found that she couldn't leave the room fast enough.

"What did she call you?" Siri asked him, as they were walking to lightsaber practice.

Obi-wan hesitated.

He remembered when they had first met, so many years ago, when he'd shared the nickname that his parents had given him. It had always been their little inside joke, as he really preferred to go by Obi-wan, but he always liked it when Kali called him Ben. Finally he shrugged. "Obi-wan," he said, not looking at Siri. "It was noisy; it might have sounded different to you."

She nodded, but he could see that she didn't believe him. To her credit though, she shrugged it off, and gave him a dazzling smile, which he returned. After glancing around to confirm that they were alone in the hallway, she reached for his hand, which he gave her, and they walked in silence.

The Chrysalis had a deceptively small and dingy exterior, which at first made Kalinda almost turn around and go back to the Temple. Curiosity though, made her resolve to at least look inside. To her relief, it was cleaner than she'd expected, though quite garishly decorated. It seemed that the owner of the establishment had decided to use any color, as long as it was florescent or sparkly, a theme that was repeated in the cloths that covered the multitude of small, round tables, the waitress' uniforms, and the curtain that was centered behind the stage. As her eyes were assaulted by the design, she had to force herself not to cover her ears with her hands; there was a music player next to the bar that was blaring some kind of Togratan pop song at full volume.

She made her way to the bar, and managed to catch the eye of the Twi'lek girl that was working behind the counter. "I'm looking for Joyle?"

The Twi'lek pointed towards the corner of the large room, where a blue-skinned, Pantoran woman was sorting through a pile of receipts. Taking a moment to brush off the stray bits of glitter that still clung to her tunic, Kalinda made her way to the woman's table.

"Good evening, Madame Joyle. I'm not sure if you know, but your cook, Dexter Jettster sent me to you-" she began, extending her hand. However, she was cut off as the woman rolled her eyes.

"What's so good about it? Place is dead. No customers means no money." She paused, and glanced up at the girl. "Dex sent you, did he? You don't look old enough to dance...though you're certainly built for it."

Kali's brow furrowed. "Dance? No, I'm a...musician. He thought that we might come to an arrangement."

Joyle stood up. She was short, for her species, barely taller than Kalinda, but her gaze was pure steel. "And you consider yourself a talented musician, do you?"

Kalinda shrugged and shifted the gitar she'd brought to her other shoulder, letting the woman see the case as she did so. "Why don't you be the judge?"

The Pantoran gestured to the stage. "Very well. Show me what you've got..."

"Kamala."

"I don't care what your name is, unless you make me a profit," Joyle countered, waving her hand.

Kali made her way to the stage, a strange sense of calm falling over her. There was no chair or stool-which she would have preferred-her knee was bothering her-so she stood in the center of the stage, pulled out the gitar, (she had tuned it before she'd left the Temple), and began to play. She didn't pick out a specific melody at first, she simply let her fingers wander over the strings until a tune came unbidden to her mind. It was actually one of the songs that she'd written herself, though why she chose to play it in front of a bunch of strangers in a dingy bar she had no idea.

As she sang, as the music flowed from her fingers, Kali began to feel the Force gathering around her, until she thought that she must be glowing with it. Her conscious mind was lost to the song and her fingers moved on pure instinct as her voice wove the lyrics around and around. Afterward, she couldn't have recalled what she'd sung, only that the moment that the final note faded and she opened her eyes, the room, which had somehow filled with at least twice as many patrons, burst into applause and cheers and shouts for an encore. A glance towards the Pantoran owner, who was frantically gesturing her to continue, encouraged her to begin another song, and after that one, a third.

She wasn't sure how long she stood and played, but a glance at an obliging patron's chronometer told her that it was far, far past the time when she should have left. Blast, she thought, bowing briefly before hurrying offstage. Where did the time go? She nearly ran over Joyle in her haste to escape, but Dex, who had appeared next to his employer, held out one of his huge hands to stop her.

"You gonna turn into a pumpkin on us?"

"What?"

The blue-skinned woman rolled her eyes, and pushed Dex aside. "Never mind him, he never makes any sense. So!" She put her arm around Kalinda's shoulder, and began to walk her to the door. "You made me a bit of cash tonight. Feel like coming back tomorrow?"

Kali's mind raced, working it out. It won't be easy, she thought, but I think I can do it. "Yes, I do," she replied, grinning. "It was...fun."

"Whatever makes you say," she replied with a sigh. "So, how much?"

"Excuse me?"

"For your...services," Joyle motioned towards the instrument case. "What's your going rate?"

Kali shook her head. "I can't accept any money, Madame."

"A talented musician who brings people to my place and doesn't want to be paid?" Joyle said, glancing at Dex. "Too good to be true, eh? Are you a mirage, or just a bad joke-teller?"

Pursing her lips, Kalinda thought for a moment. "It's not a joke. But...if I could have a tip jar, I could donate the proceeds to charity, I suppose..."

"We'll work something out, kiddo," Dex said, patting her shoulder. "You go home and get some rest."

When Kalinda returned to her room that evening-or morning, rather-she found it difficult to sleep, even though she was exhausted. Instead, she kept thinking of different songs that she wanted to perform, or how many instruments she might be able to loan out from the music room at one time. Beneath the excitement of her new activities lay a deeper, more resonant chord; this is what I'm supposed to be doing, she thought, lying in bed. Making music. I think that Jonas would've enjoyed himself. An image of her master slipped out of its hiding place in the back of her mind and she recalled the outpouring of emotions that she'd felt during her performance.

"That was for you, dad," she whispered to the darkness. "I hope you liked it."