Year Eight – Day 60

I'll be twelve cycles soon and still without a master.

Dooku doesn't look worried as he sits on his bed fiddling with the innards to his lightsaber as he talks to the recorder. A piece of his lightsaber hovers next to him as he uses the Force to make it float within reach of him.

Jocasta already has a master. She was selected a few months ago by one of the historians. A Jedi Lorekeeper by the name of Joyce D'Lur. She's human and from one of the Core Worlds, though I am not sure which one. I'll have to ask Jo next time I see her.

Here he sets his disassembled weapon aside and lets the floating piece settling back down to his bed to rest with the other pieces on the soft cloth beside him. He's quiet with a thoughtful look for a few minutes before he continues speaking.

I already miss her. Master Yoda says I shouldn't, that attachment is not the Jedi Way. Yet I cannot help but feel that way. She's my friend...

"Girlfriend," intruded Lorian off-screen who then appeared plopping his gangly body onto the bed behind Dooku. The dark-haired trainee reached out for his weapon parts as they bounced from Lorian's unexpected collapse. He threw his friend a glare.

She is not my girlfriend. Jedi do not have girlfriends.

Uh huh. You spent a lot of time with her this last year.

We were studying... unlike you.

Is that what they're calling it these days?

Lorian! I... we're... She's eleven and I'll be twelve! We've ...err... Its not physiologically possible for us... yet, that is. And we would... not that I would even consider... Stop laughing.

Dooku scowls darkly at his laughing friend, completely flustered at the implication he assumed his friend had been suggesting.

Chill, Yan. I'm certain you two were studying. Besides the thought of you two doing anything remotely like that is revolting.

Lorian made a disgusted face behind Dooku.

I agree. Now either leave or shut up. My lightsaber needs reassembling.

The sandy haired boy giggled as he slid off the bed and left his friend. Dooku continued to scowl at his retreating form but his flustered looked remained once he was gone and tried to finish what he had been doing before the interruption. A few minutes later and to no avail, he plopped onto his back in frustration, clearly distracted by the conversation.