"Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight. No breaks until you hit sixty."
"This seems unfair."
"If you can make remarks then you're clearly not trying. Do I need to show you how to do a proper pushup?"
Teller grunted and struggled through the last two in his set, before collapsing onto a stretch of hardwood he had now become very familiar with.
"Next time, don't disappear in the middle of training."
"It was just studying."
"Studying is important to becoming a Jedi."
"How do history lessons help me fight with a lightsaber or move objects with my mind?"
Teller hauled himself up and Thayla sat down on the floor next to him, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Teller, I need you to remember that there is more to being a Jedi than just fighting. Do you understand that?"
"Yeah."
"Then why are you being so difficult?"
"I get that I need to train and get in shape, but I just don't get why we have to learn every detail of history and philosophy. I haven't even held a lightsaber, yet."
You will absolutely not be using a lightsaber, until you are ready."
"Do you even have one?"
"Teller, I need you to be patient."
A sudden but debilitating pause hung over them.
"We should cover the lesson we missed yesterday. Please go get the datapads I laid out on the table outside your room."
"Fine."
"Fine, what?"
Teller responded through gritted teeth, "Fine, Master Creed."
"Thank you."
Before either of them could move, Jon suddenly burst into the lobby of the mansion. "Guys, we have to go."
Two men wearing mismatched armor and blue cloaks stepped into the room. Thayla pulled out her staff and Teller calculated exactly how long it would take him to rush over and grab his blaster off of a nearby table, but Jon waved them both down.
"It seems the head of the Rabble would like to speak with us, personally."
The master and student looked at one another, surprised, but quickly went to change out of their sweating clothes and look presentable.
"Everyone ready?"
"I'm all set," Teller said, preparing to strap his holster around his waist, until Thayla handed him the stick he had been training with.
"A Jedi shouldn't carry a blaster."
"Are you joking? I'm not carrying a piece of rebar as a weapon."
"Well, you can't have a real lightsaber and I'm not letting you carry an uncivilized weapon. You'll look like a common thug."
"As opposed to a crazy person, waving a stick?"
He was dumbfounded, but his master was determined. With exaggeratedly pained movements, Teller removed his holster and left it sitting in his locked room.
The six of them headed out, Teller and Thayla in the rear, Jon and Jamie in the middle and the two mismatched soldiers out front. Teller had seen men and women like them before, but there seemed to be an unusual amount, today.
Having so many of them wandering the streets allowed Teller to really understand how varied the Rabble was. Some were short and others were tall. Some wore the armor of professional mercenaries, or at least a few pieces. Others had bare metal sheets sewn into their jumpsuit, or leathery hides and scales covering their vital organs, droid plating held on with bungee cords and one even wore an entire set of plasteel stormtrooper armor.
However, among all that diversity, two things tied the Rabble together. One was the iconic blue cloaks and the other was the burning intensity of a veteran warrior, barely hidden behind their eyes.
"What do you feel?" Thayla asked him.
"Confused. I'm trying to figure out why they-"
"Use your feelings. Dig deep and feel the energy flowing between us and them, between the buildings, between every drain of dust."
He did as he was told. His first attempts had always resulted in bursts of laughter at the idea of his using his "feelings", but the more he listened and the more he tried to look beyond himself…
"They don't mean us any harm. They need help."
"That's what I'm sensing, too. Good job."
"Thanks," he said, his voice small but his pride swelling.