Learn the Sound

by Drel Murn

"Isha Kiri'e. You're here on recommendation of the Council of Reconciliation in order to resolve-" she pauses, finally glancing up at me, "A personal matter requiring approval by the council." "Yes." "You have the floor," the Grandmaster tells me. "I'm here to take the Knighthood trials," I say. Time Travel, Jedi Service Corps

Notes: If you haven't read my writing before, welcome! A warning, this fic is going to be almost exclusively about OCs. Canon characters get the occasional throw away mention, but they are very much not the focus. None of the main characters of this fic even personally knew any canon characters. This fic is my love letter to the Jedi Service Corps and to non-Jedi, or even non-traditional Jedi/Sith force use around the galaxy.

If you've ready any of my stuff before, you know the drill. There are so many original characters here, it is original characters out the wazoo.

The title comes from "There comes a time when the world gets quiet and the only thing left is your own heart. So you'd better learn the sound of it. Otherwise you'll never understand what it's saying." by Sarah Dessen in Just Listen, I have not read it but the quote fits.

This fic's also up on AO3, where I am under the username Drel_Murn. Due to limitations of FFN, the formatting here is a little messed up, bu tI also did some fancy coding on AO3 to make some parts look nicer. The content is the same either way though. Welcome to my fic.

---

To: Isha Kiri'e (85XC5Y8F33/jediorder/agricorps/rel)
From: Arkaitsz Kaya (HE6KD7HOCC/jediorder/coruscant/rel)
Date: GST 05:00, 2, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Aging Out

Dear Dr. Kiri'e,

I'm Arkaitsz Kaya, an initiate at the Coruscant Jedi Temple. I've always been interested in plants, and now that I'm close enough to aging out that I don't have to worry about being chosen, I'm looking into joining the AgriCrops branch of the Jedi Service Corps. I'm particularly interested in genetics, as I've always been fascinated by stories of local grains adapted to be more drought resistant or flood tolerant or adding an essential nutrient that's hard to get on that planet. I know it won't all be like that, so I was wondering if you would be willing to talk to me about what it is you actually do day to day?

The attached file has some of the work from my biology course, when we were going over genetics. If you have time, could you tell me how it looks? It's scanned flimsi, so it's got all of my notes, but it's not like the teachers grade by those.

Thank you for your time,

Arkaitsz Kaya

📎image(5).jpg

---

To: Savit Altan Aruna (IF7LE8HPDC/jediorder/exporicorps/rel)
From: Arkaitsz Kaya (HE6KD7HOCC/jediorder/coruscant/rel)
Date: GST 05:04, 2, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Aging Out

Dear Mr. Aruna,

I'm Arkatisz Kaya, an initiate at the Coruscant Jedi Temple. I'm getting close to aging out, so I've been contacting people in different branches of the Service Corps to see what they think about their work. I was wondering if you would be willing to talk about that?

The attached file is an image of a hyperspace beacon we did for a project that I thought you might find interesting or something.

Thank you for your time,

Arkaitsz Kaya

📎image(4).jpg

---

To: Tinor Jason (4UDS1BYA13/jediorder/exploricorps/rel), Treis Kelech (75XB4Y7F32/jediorder/coruscant/rel)
From: Arkaitsz Kaya (HE6KD7HOCC/jediorder/coruscant/rel)
Date: GST 05:11, 2, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Hanging out?

Hey Tinor, Treis!

I know it might be a bit hard to get permission since we're in different clans, but do you think we could hang out some time? I had a lot of fun talking with you in the corridor before we had to get to class!

Let me know,

Arkaitsz Kaya

---

To: Torkal Rheiss (B31XA8/jediorder/ardek/rel)
From: Arkaitsz Kaya (HE6KD7HOCC/jediorder/coruscant/rel)
Date: GST 05:20, 2, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Reaching out

Hello Torkal Rheiss,

I'm Arkaitsz from the Coruscant Jedi Temple. I was wondering if you'd be willing to talk to me about why your temple split off from the rest of the order? Like I know the Corellians split off because of something about families, but I couldn't find why Ardek temple split off.

Thanks,

Arkaitsz Kaya

---

To: Miron Ise (mirondragon933/leroti/chekal-tanen/e-asu/cit)
From: Arkaitsz Kaya (HE6KD7HOCC/jediorder/coruscant/rel)
Date: GST 05:27, 2, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Reaching out

Hello Miron Ise!

We're doing a project on Leroti Cluster for class, and they encouraged us to reach out to people actually living there for information! I found your email though the holonet - apparently your town has dragons? What's that like?

Here's the picture of the dragon plant that I really like!

Thank you for your time!

Arkaitsz Kaya

📎image(2).jpg

---

image(2).png

[Image description: an adolescent-looking humanoid with brown skin and red hair stands in the foreground, dressed in white jedi-initiate robes and grinning. To their left, slightly out of focus, is a red, leafy plant. In their right hand is a lit red lightsaber, pointing downwards.]

---

Kesib

Welcome! This is the holopage for the Kimana city of Kesib.

Browse for a hotel for your beach side getaway!

Need a present for your partner? Look at our line of Hatran fruit beauty products!

Looking to try some of our Hatran fruit delicacies? Click here to look at local restaurants!

For all the adults out there; click here to browse the bars that sell our famous Hatran fruit alcohol!

Or just browse our list of local places for more ideas of what to do on your vacation. Enjoy!

---

Kesib Services

Attorneys
Ads
Child Care
Flowers
Health and Fitness
Hotels
Map
Medical Care
News
Parks
Pets and Veterinary Services
Religious locations
Sports

---

Post Ad to Kesib Holoboard

Hey Nila! It's Arkaitsz Hokkaitam here! I'm sorry I didn't get your number last night, but I know I gave you my number~ Text me some time!

Submit

Your submission has been posted! It will remain on the Holo board for a tenday. Have a nice day!

---

Chiren Mercenary Guild

Opoku System Jobs

Job Number: LTV5KLSZVF

Date Posted: 2, Month 2, 3598 ATC

Availability: Available

Payment: 300 wupiupi or equivalent in a currency of your choice

Description: Deliver a data packet to a member of the Itana Sect on Dahnah Sola, in the Shola system. Stand by for a reply or transport to Opoku system. Specific information given upon acceptance. 1/4 payment upon acceptance, 3/4 upon reply from target.

---

Job #LTV5KLSZVF

Merc#A8N2KO: Hey, I'm here for the job.

Merc#A8N2KO: You say information given upon acceptance, is that true or would you be willing to let me know first?

Job #LTV5KLSZVF: Information upon acceptance only

Merc#A8N2KO: Worth a try. I'm going to Dahnah Sola anyways, so I might as well.

Merc#A8N2KO: I accept.

Merc#A8N2KO: So who's the data pack/pickup for?

Job #LTV5KLSZVF: Data pack and pickup are for Terys Osseri

Job #LTV5KLSZVF: Osseri is Itinu - brown furred quadruped predator.

Job #LTV5KLSZVF: Osseri is underage. If asked, tell the temple that this is from a friend and that they need to update their damn holonetwork.

Merc#A8N2KO: Done this before?

Job #LTV5KLSZVF: For someone else in the sect, but yes.

Job #LTV5KLSZVF: The money has been transferred.

Job #LTV5KLSZVF: image(3).png

Job #LTV5KLSZVF: Above is the data packet.

Merc#A8N2KO: Nice working with you.

---

image(3).png

[Image description: in the center of the image is the blade of a red lightsaber against a dark background. Out of focus to the right is a humanoid face, all color washed out by the red from the lightsaber.]

---

command_line_Savit_Altan_Aruna_ExploriCoprs/log

/GST0845/2/2/945ARR

Savit ExplorCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ list

(938)PetenKarisAstronav
image(4).jpg
Kimana
kitty
HoloBeaconEssay1
kema'ayy

Savit ExplorCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ open new file Colors

Savit ExplorCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ Colors image(4).jpg to blue

Savit ExplorCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ open blue

---

blue, created GST 09:13, 2, Month 2 945 ARR

Language: /StandardLanguagePacket/Basic

My love, you're blue.

Language: /Kimana

Please please please, Savit, please remember me. I emailed Shu'lin'nis and you know how they are, they'll probably take me in now even if they don't remember, but we didn't meet at all last time and I don't know what we'll do if we don't meet this time. Please reply. And - I'm trying to get everyone to Coruscant since four of us are already here. Try to come if you can.

Language: None recognized

Message truncated due to incomprehensibility

---

To: Arkaitsz Kaya (HE6KD7HOCC/jediorder/coruscant/rel)
From: Savit Altan Aruna (IF7LE8HPDC/jediorder/exporicorps/rel)
Date: GST 09:20, 2, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Re:Aging Out

Hello!

There's no need to call me Mr, I'm only a couple years older than you. I am very much willing to talk, and in fact I'm going to be on Coruscant soon for some business, so maybe we can do that in person.

Let me know when you're free, and I can make some time.

Nice talking with you,
Savit Altan Aruna

---

To: Arkaitsz Kaya (HE6KD7HOCC/jediorder/coruscant/rel), Treis Kelech (75XB4Y7F32/jediorder/coruscant/rel)
From: Tinor Jason (4UDS1BYA13/jediorder/exploricorps/rel)
Date: GST 09:30, 2, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Re:Hanging out?

Yeah, sure. I'll drag Treis along. Creche duty's probably going to be the best way to do this. And there's this kid in the creche that's pretty funny.

---

Creche Duty Signups - Heliost Clan

Arkaitsz Kaya

Treis Kelech

Tinor Jason

---

To: Arkaitsz Kaya (HE6KD7HOCC/jediorder/coruscant/rel)
From: Miron Ise (mirondragon933/leroti/chekal-tanen/e-asu/cit)
Date: GST 10:45, 2, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Re:Reaching out

Yeah, yeah,

We're on our way. Both of us. And put that away, you know that your people hate red.

---

To: Arkaitsz Kaya (HE6KD7HOCC/jediorder/coruscant/rel)
From: Torkal Rheiss (B31XA8/jediorder/ardek/rel)
Date: GST 16:20, 2, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Re:Reaching out

Savit picked me up before I had time to read your email. It's whatever. We're taking the Duros Space Run in, we should be there.

---

command_line_Isha_Kiri'e_AgriCorps/log

/GST0630/2/2/945ARR

Isha AgriCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ list

image(5).jpg
Jeris_Demanata_M10-945ARR_Report

TrashyHolonovels/

Isha AgriCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ open image(5).jpg

Warning: image(5).jpg is corrupted. Open anyways? Y / N

Isha AgriCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ Y

Isha AgriCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ ^&X

Isha AgriCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ decrypt image(5).jpg

Warning: decrypt command runs all decryption programs. This operation can take quite a bit of time, and if possible, it is advised to use a specific decryption program. Run anyways? Y / N

Isha AgriCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ Y

Running . . .
Completed.
Result:
Failed. Encryption does not match any known type or language. To see list of types and languages tried, type decrypt -h.

/GST0130/3/2/945ARR

Isha AgriCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ open new file ColorDecode

Isha AgriCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ compile ColorDecode

Isha AgriCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ ColorDecode image(5).jpg kaya

File Accessed
File Read
Dict Parser
Results Written

Isha AgriCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ list

ColorDecode
image(5).jpg
Jeris_Demanata_M10-945ARR_Report
kaya
TrashyHolonovels/

Isha AgriCorpsOS:~/Downloads$ open

---

kaya, created GST 02:00, 3, Month 2, 945 ARR

Language:

My love, you're blue.

Language:

Teacher, if you're reading this then thank the force. I'm surrounded by dead people and laser swords, and if I have to stay here much longer I'm going to have a fucking breakdown. And the force here feels awful - how did anyone stand this? I mean there's none of the darkness that came to shroud Coruscant, but the light is so stifling and piercing. I can't use Nila's techniques for numerous reasons and the Creche masters have excused me from classes because I was having panic attacks almost nonstop. Teacher, please tell me you know a way for me to declare for Agri Corps before I turn thirteen. I'll quit the order if I have to, it's not like I'd really make a good Jedi now. Please Teacher respond by the twelfth. I probably won't have access to this account after that.

Language: None recognized

Message truncated due to incomprehensibility

To view full message, run ColorDecode -a

---

To: Arkaitsz Kaya (HE6KD7HOCC/jediorder/coruscant/rel)
From: Isha Kiri'e (85XC5Y8F33/jediorder/agricorps/rel)
Date: GST 02:06, 3, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Re:Aging Out

Dear Initiate Arkaitz,

It would be my pleasure to talk with you to talk with you about my work and about the AgriCorps in general; I know it can seem quite intimidating to suddenly leave the only home you have known. Genetic modification is indeed my speciality, so I do believe that I will be able to keep up with you on the subject.

As for your homework, I believe that you attached the wrong file, however your enthusiasm is commendable. Given the reading level you should be at, I have attached a couple of papers on genetics, and one of my own short papers, should you wish for material to start on before our discussion.

I will unfortunately be in hyperspace for much of the next 7 days as I am traveling, making a holocall impossible. However, as I am travelling to Coruscant, we should be able to have our conversation in person, if that is agreeable to you. We will be making brief stops every couple days to refuel, so feel free to email me again, and I will do my best to reply.

Regards,

Isha Kiki'e

📎 StarterForGenetics
📎 TournetsansGeneticsForBeginers
📎 Amiralis_Color_Change_And_Mining_Pollution-KentoGrath-938ARR
📎 Ysalamiri-Selecton-For-Force-Suppression_IshaKiri-e_940ARR

---

To: Isha Kiri'e (85XC5Y8F33/jediorder/agricorps/rel)
From: Arkaitsz Kaya (HE6KD7HOCC/jediorder/coruscant/rel)
Date: GST 23:30, 3, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Re:Re:Aging Out

Dear Dr. Kiri'e,

Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. My birthday is in six months, so I can stay a week. If things go well, I might even convince them to let me declare for AgriCorps early.

I'll look over the papers you sent me, maybe if I understand them well enough, we can talk about them during our meeting. I apologize for the homework file, I can't find the file I meant to send, so talking about that will have to be postponed.

Please let me know when you arrive so that we can coordinate our meeting.

Regards,

Arkaitsz Kaya

---

To: Isha Kiri'e (85XC5Y8F33/jediorder/agricorps/rel)
From: Nila Sini (kesheramidngiht/kimana-kase/rothasul/kesib/cit)
Date: GST 23:37, 3, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Ta'ir

Ta'ir, why are you so embarrassing? An ad? Aaah!

I am on my way. I was already on my way when I saw the ad, but you see why I never gave you this email now, don't you?

Did you email everyone ta'ir? I must admit that I never memorized everyone's contact info. We were always changing comm codes, and I don't know if I even got their old emails in the first place.

I'll be there soon.

---

Chiren Mercenary Guild

Opoku System Jobs

Date: 4, Month 2, 945 ARR

Job #LTV5KLSZVF

Merc#A8N2KO: Delivered your data. The kid chose to take you up on the ride so he's bunking on my couch right now.

Merc#A8N2KO: He's pretty cute.

Merc#A8N2KO: His reply to the message was: "Stop teasing me! Do you know how embarrassed I was when mine was transparent, and then you go and get a red one?"

Job #LTV5KLSZVF: He is cute, isn't he.

Job #LTV5KLSZVF: Half of the remaining money has been deposited in your account in thanks.

Job #LTV5KLSZVF: The remainder will be transferred with the notification you've dropped him on Gamorr.

---

To: Isha Kiri'e (85XC5Y8F33/jediorder/agricorps/rel)
From: Terys Osseri (transparentblade/itnana/rel)
Date: GST 12:00, 4, Month 2, 945 ARR
Subject: Thank you!

Oh my sith-begotten gods, Arkaitsz, I thought I was never going to get off planet. Like I love my home, but I forgot how boring it was. Good boring, but holonet is never connected, and the books are all ancient.

I'm using Isha'lin's account, so gods, she better be back too.

I'll be there soon.'

Also - really. Your lightsaber? And when did you even have time to get your crystal back? You posted that image like three hours after I got here.

---

Coruscant Temple Parking Registration

Hanger: A98DB973
Spot: 19

Vehicle:
Type: 25-43 Goa'ri-type Freighter
Name: Hokkaitam
ID : 3UD-S1BY-A03
Place of Registration: Nyis
Registration codes:
Description: Heavily modified for hydroponics and sample storage, heavy shielding, some offensive capability, outside painted in green and brown forest camouflage
Condition: Difficult to determine given modifications, but seems good

Registered to:
Name: Isha Kiri'e
[x] Jedi wrong
ID: 85-XC5-Y8F-33
[ ] Temple Resident [ ] Traveling Knight [x] Other: AgriCrops
[x] Non-Jedi
Sponsored: Y / (N)
Sponsor name: EDIT:None
Sponsor ID: EDIT:None
Reason for visit: EDIT:Forgot to ask
Visit Pre-approved: Y / (N)

Date: 11, Month 2, 945 ARR
Intended length of stay: 10 days

Filer:
Name: Ashine Xykile, modified by Sais Rhar (Supervisor)
ID: C4-2YA-8O3-KO, YP-OJW-UAP-6A
Notes: I did the best I could, but I don't actually know how this form is supposed to work for the Service Corps people. Like they apparently do have IDs, which was good because I was about to panic, but even though they're kind of the same length as ours they aren't split up the same way, 2-3-3-2, but 2-2-4-2, which can make a big difference! But then uh . . . I don't know the honorific for her. Master? I mean I know you're supposed to be a knight to become a master, but Kiri'e feels like a master so I'm just gonna go with that. Master Kiri'e pointed out that the code was for AgriCrops internal use only and added that when she works with the other branches of the Service Corps, they usually add on a little AG to the front to distinguish the branches. Which is fascinating! But also does that mean I just registered the Hokkaitam as some random knight's ship?

Also Hokkaitam is so heavily modded, I wasn't sure if it was accurate to really call it a Goa'ri 25-43, like I know that our pilots mod their ships sometimes, but I've never seen something like this before - there were plants literally growing out of the walls! Like I've seen hydroponics ships before, and you wouldn't think that even the freighter line of Goa'ri make would work because they're always so cramped and plants need room to grow, but Kiri'e's making it work. Anyways, if nothing else, can I get instructions on how to handle the Service Corps? They're Jedi, right sir? So I'll probably see them again.

EDIT: Ashine did register it to some random knight. I changed Kiri'e's registration here to non-Jedi because I don't think the Service Corps are technically Jedi, for all that they're a part of the order. I'll have to forward the question to the council. This'll do until we get a better answer. Yesh. We might have to change the forms entirely. I don't think I've actually seen Service Corps members here before, they tend to stay away from the Core. Still, Ashine's right, they are a part of the Jedi Order, even if they aren't Jedi, and we should be able to accurately represent them without classifying them as outsiders.

Pending Approval and Review

Quartermaster's Department Use Only

Approved: (Y) / N
Reviewed by:
Name: Ianale Osuli
ID: 8Z-IX6-G3F-58

Approved

---

11, Month 2, 945 ARR

I'm not expecting to feel anyone as I enter Coruscant orbit. Beyond the question of whether our bonds had come back with us, no one was willing to reach out anymore.

Even before that one hellish year when the inquisitors had figured out how to back track their targets' bonds after capture, but we hadn't figured out how to break bonds, that year of paralyzing fear where everyone walled off or pushed away or threw shield after shield over their bonds, doing everything they could to protect their friends to the point where some made themselves forget they had bonds . . .

Even before that people were wary and scared about anything that could get them sensed. Even if you aren't rescuing a child from the inquisitors, you never know when one is close enough to sense you.

I can feel the temple as I drop from orbit, following the path flight control directed me to, patiently waiting at each orbital layer for permission to drop down until finally I'm dropping into the unfamiliar crowded flow of Coruscanti Senate District Traffic.

And as I clear the last couple gates, I can feel a cautious touch reaching for me, hiding itself in the natural eddies the massive stone of the temple creates in the river of the force. Fingers slide through my hair in Atorm's familiar greeting before a second presence reaches for me, following Atorm's path through the force like it's a zip line.

:! Isha'lin!:

Then several more presences follow, picking their own subtle paths or following another's, and as I reach out to meet each one, there's the familiar feeling of bonds clicking back into place in just the way we'd all trained ourselves to, and I have to give up on any pretense I'd made that I was the one steering Hokkaitam as tears fill my psuedo-eyes to dump the excess emotional chemicals.

:Shu'lin.:

:!:

:! Ao'lin!:

"Kiri'e'lin! !"

:!:

"You're here!:

Humming beneath me, Hokkaitam chirps out an inquisitive trill, and I let out a wet laugh.

"They're all here," I tell them, trailing my fingers along the touch-sensitive panel on my armrest that Hokkaitam had asked me to install early on in our partnership so they could feel the tapping of my fingers. "They're all here, Hokkaitam."

Underneath the rumble of the propulsion systems and the hissing of air moving past, the humming of Hokkaitam's processors slips a step deeper in satisfaction and she kicks on the seat heaters that were originally meant for deep space use, giving me their own version of a hug.

The others grow quiet in the back of my mind as we draw closer to the temple, but I know intimately the difference between quiet and gone.

"Hailing Coruscanti Jedi Temple, this is the 25-43 Goa'ri-type Freighter Hokkaitam, requesting clearance to land."

"Goa'ri Freighter Hokkaitam, this is the Coruscant Jedi Temple, sending flight path droid and transmitting verification code."

"Coruscant Jedi Temple, this is Goa'ri Freighter Hokkaitam, verification code received, droid recognized and verified."

"Goa'ri Freighter Hokkaitam, this is the Coruscant Jedi Temple, acknowledged."

I let Hokkaitam follow the little droid with its glowing arms out of the waiting area, down the side of the temple to one of the open, force-field shielded hanger bays, and down into the hanger spot we're directed to.

One of the on duty hanger attendants quickly comes over to help me fill out the paperwork, though she quickly finds herself over her head.

I spot the fox red hair out of the corner of my field of vision part of the way through filling out the paperwork. It bobs in and out of view as I finish impatiently, long held human socialization habits tugging the corners of my mouth upwards, regardless.

The poor hanger attendant doesn't seem to know what to do when I leave her there to write her notes after we finish the inspection. I know that she'll probably have to refile the registration papers because my AgriCorps id isn't a valid knight id, but I can't find it in myself to be upset despite my pity for her confusion. It's not my fault everyone forgets the Service Corps.

Arkaitsz is there at my elbow when I bother to look, cutting across the hanger floor to get to the hallway leading into the temple proper, comfortably in my space. I have to look up to see their face, twenty years enough to get me out of the habit of accommodating for being in a world made for beings taller than I, and even a year before I met them, Arkaitsz is a good two feet taller than I'd been. Than I am, I mean.

"Hello, ti'ao'nis," I greet them.

"Shu'lin," Arkaitsz replies easily. "You're green again."

"And I'm short," I say, which is rather more important to my mind. But- "I'll be growing soon. I hacked my file to give my species a midlife phase change. I don't feel safe like this anymore." I glance up at them as we step into the hallway. "Anything I should know about before I submit my petition to the council?"

"Atorm said you were planning to take the knighthood trials," Arkaitsz says as we make our way through the large, labyrinthine corridors of the temple, these ones so close to the freighter hanger large enough for hover trucks to pass by to make deliveries and rather less polished for visitors than the rest of the temple.

"I'm certainly qualified," I say. "I thought it would be the easiest way to get you out. And so long as I'm not on the active duty register, they wouldn't have much more jurisdiction over me than they normally do. But that won't work if all of you are here - are all of you here?"

"The whole crew are," Arkaitsz says. Their footsteps stutter in hesitation, then in a moment we switch places, me slipping comfortably into their shadow as they follow some unknown trail, taking doorways into smaller and smaller hallways and tight staircases down, down down into the underbelly of the temple, down into the dark unused portion where dust lies thick on the floors, and faint trails of only slightly less dusty footprints trace the center of the hallways.

Then out of the dark comes the white glow and crackling hum of old lights. The buzz of conversation goes silent as the gaggle of children before us look up, a couple at a time.

Then Terys's force presence - lights up - goes dark - flushes red - goes sweet and mouth watering like my favorite just-ripe chira fruits - chants love-love-love - as he barrels towards me and knocks me over, sticking his snout right up against my my neck as he says, "Isha'lin! You're here!"

Then the rest of the children come piling in in a familiar outrush of feeling, voices and force presences overlapping, hands reaching out to touch, force presences blooming in love-relief-excitement-!-alive-alive-alive, Arkaitsz's steady presence pacing the edges of the room, maintaining a shield to keep us concealed as if all of our emotions were happening in only one mind.

Everyone wears themselves out, and even with Nila changing positions with Arkaitsz half way through so they would also have time for expression, everyone eventually falls silent, just breathing and trembling and exhausted all together. We'd gotten good at this. Good at bottling up emotions, but good at releasing them too.

I can feel myself wilting a little under the heat and weight of the group, this body not nearly as sturdy as the one I'd re-engineered over the course of the Clone Wars, this body meant to be alone and lonely. Sometimes I tell myself that the best thing about being a plant that force-engineered itself movement is a lack of animal pain. Since plants don't move, there's little point in communicating it all over. And I tell myself that right now even as chemical warning signals bloom along my ribs and my hair starts to get rather limp under the sleeping, traumatised children.

They wake up eventually, one by one, and pull away a little, all of us still huddled together in a circle, scrubbing at the tear tracks and snot on our faces. The shield bubble collapses to just our circle of energy sharing as Nila takes her spot next to Arkaitsz, who's just leaning against me with their eyes closed.

Treis goes first like always, questions lined up, and ready to drag answers out of us if he has to. "So what do we want?"

"I need to leave the Order," Atorm says immediately, the white stripes on the back of their brownish-red hands flashing with their words. "I need to leave the Order or Master Nyran will just come again, not taking no for an answer. She didn't let me declare for the EduCorps last time, she won't let me this time."

"I think that I want to leave too," Savit says quietly, breaking the silence of Atorm's speech. He's fiddling a little with the purple end of his lekku when I glance at him, and I automatically slap his hand away before he can start scratching. "There's - if I can, I want to continue to maintain beacons and plot hyperspace lanes. I liked that. But there's not enough freedom."

"Most of us still in the Order should probably leave," Tinor says. Their black hair is unusually messy in its bun, probably from the nap earlier, and under the natural indigo coloring their skin looks pale. "Just one problem. Except for Kiri'e'lin we're all minors by galactic law, and even if we leave, the Jedi Order are legally responsible for us unless they pass our guardianship to another party."

"We need to stop the Sith," Tokal says. "Sorry Terys, but we need to stop them. Sidious. Palpatine. Whatever he called himself."

"Can we-" Terys breaks off when everyone looks at him, tapping one claw on the floor. "Can we save the Mandalorians? I know . . . I know they're traditional enemies of the Jedi order and all, but they didn't deserve what happened to them. Jaster Mereel and the Haat'Mando'ade didn't deserve to die, and especially not as a mistake. Not the way they did last time. Nor did the rest of the Mandalorians."

There are so many wars. So many fights and conflicts, and for the most part we're really just naming them. We're not warriors, and we're not diplomats either. We could warn, we could gather information, but war was not our job. I don't know if we can survive another war.

"Alright," Treis says, when he's written down the last war and everyone's gone quiet. "Now what can we do about all of this?"

"Shu'lin," Arkaitsz says, not opening their eyes. "You were going to take the Knight trials."

"I was."

"If you're a knight you can have a padawan."

"Yes," I glance out across the circle. "I can't take all of you though. There's that rule against multiple padawans still."

"You don't need to take all of us," Arkaitsz says. "You just need to take Atorm. Nyran can't take him if he's already a padawan. And the rest of us are old enough that they'll let us leave the Order. We can set our guardian preference to you - all of us can. And they won't be able to stop us because by their rules you're qualified to care for children. There's no rule that you can only have one child, and there's no rule that your children have to be a part of the Jedi Order."

There's silence for a moment, then Atorm turns towards me with pleading eyes and fast-speaking hands. "Please please, take me away from here-" his hands trace the crown and heart symbol that had become informally mine before he hesitates, then says my name again, using the formal word for doctor and finger-spelling out the letters of my name.

"Of course," I tell him, echoing my words with my hands to emphasize them.

"If Arkaitsz doesn't mind," Atorm says quickly, glancing at Arkaitsz where they rest against my shoulder, squinting at Atorm so they can see his words.

"I don't mind," Arkaitsz says. "Shu'nis - shu'lin'nis can make her own choices. I'm already hers, I don't need that from her anymore. Besides, I won't mind a sibling."

"Alright, that's Atorm, taken care of. Let's finish getting ourselves free before we start working on anything else," Treis says. "Everyone got a holopad?"

The group shield pops like a bubble as people push themselves to their feet and move to where they'd left their bags. We've all got holopads soon enough, and Treis starts calling out directions to personal files, and instructions for how to register me as their guardian preference.

It'll be interesting to see how that goes. Children don't really tend to change their own guardian preferences, even once they know about them, so there's no way Quartermaster's department won't notice something's up. And that's before they realise they're all appointing me. They'll probably have to have a meeting with the council or someone on it to explain their reasoning, which will be fun. I hadn't been to the temple since before all of them were born before this.

I navigate to the High Council's request form and fill most of it out quickly. I pause at the last part, not really certain what I should put there. They'll definitely reject my request if I just say I want to take the Knight Trials, but I don't really know what else to put that will actually get me my meeting.

"You need help?" Treis asks, settling next to me, his holopad held loosely in his hand.

"I can't think of what to put as my reason for requesting a meeting," I tell him.

"Hmm," he says, glancing at the form. It's not like there's much else to tell the council I need the meeting. "Just put something non-committal. We have time, we can afford to get kicked down a council for a referral back up."

I think about that for a moment. "'A personal matter requiring approval by the council' sound vague enough?"

Treis grins at me. "Exactly!"

I hit submit.

---

Initiate Change of Preference Guardian Form

Initiate:
Name: Arkaitsz Kaya
ID: HE-6KD-7HO-CC

Former Guardian:
Name: Izar Kaya
Relation: Parent
[ ] Jedi ID:
[ ] Temple Resident [ ] Traveling Knight [ ] Other:
[X] Non-Jedi ID: Tearoa Identification Card D-A2GA3DK88

New Guardian:
Name: Isha Kiri'e
Relation: Teacher
[X] Jedi ID: 85-XC5-Y8F-33
[ ] Temple Resident [ ] Traveling Knight [x] Other: AgriCorps
[ ] Non-Jedi ID: N/A

Reason for change: The force wills it. There is somewhere I need to go, and my parent could not take me. Also, yes, all of us are changing our preference to Master Kiri'e and no, you can't stop us unless she's not qualified, I looked it up; the Order's Charter, Section 5:Children, Subsection 9: Aging Out/Leaving While Underage, Article 6, Subarticle 2 states that the underage members of the Jedi Order are allowed to change their own prefered guardian so long as that guardian is qualified to care for children. Isha Kiri'e is not only licensed for teaching, she also has a foster parent license, and both of those are more than you lot require from your knights.

New Guardian Consent: (Y)/N
Date: 11, Month 2, 945 ARR

Pending Approval and Review

Quartermaster's Department Use Only

Approved: (Y) / N
Reviewed by:
Name: Ianale Osuli
ID: 8Z-IX6-G3F-58
Notes: Kiri'e's dead set on making a stir isn't she. Well that's the fifth of these, approved and done. I rather hope it's the last.

Approved

---

Jedi High Council Meeting Request

Name: Isha Kiri'e
[x] Jedi ID: 85-XC5-Y8F-33
[ ] Temple Resident [ ] Traveling Knight [x] Other: AgriCrops
[ ] Non-Jedi Sponsored: Y / N
Sponsor name:
Sponsor ID:

Date: 11, Month 2, 945 ARR
Priority: Low
Level: [x] Personal [ ] Organizational
Reason for request: A personal matter requiring approval by the council.

Council Use Only

Approved: Y / (N)
Date for meeting: N/A

Reviewed by:
Name: Mace Windu
ID: EB-4IB-5EL-A9
Position: Council Padawan, Secretary/Admin Authorization
Notes: Yet another petty personal dispute someone expects the council to resolve for them no doubt. I can't believe they came all the way to Coruscant for this, I thought the Service Corps had their own courts. I've certainly never actually seen one of them here before. I'm referring her to the Council of Reconciliation. That's still pretty high level, but they are in charge of outreach.

Denied

---

Referral to Council of Reconciliation

📎 High_Council_Request_Isha_Kiri-e_11-2-945ARR

Council Use Only

Approved: (Y) / N
Date for meeting: 13, Month 2, 945 ARR

Reviewed by:
Name: Nanel Ruon
ID: 96-YC6-Z9G-44
Position: Member of Council of Reconciliation
Notes: I swear, Myr needs to teach her padawan to stop pawning everything off onto us. Given the vagueness of the request, he should have at least tracked down this Kiri'e to get a better handle on what exactly they want. Still, it shouldn't take too long to at least hear them out.

Approved

---

Referral to Jedi High Council

📎 High_Council_Request_Isha_Kiri-e_11-2-945ARR
📎 Referral_Reconciliation_Council_Isha_Kiri-e_11-2-945RR|
📎 Reconciliation_Council_Transcript_1045-1100_13-2-945ARR

Approved: (Y) / N
Date for meeting: 14, Month 2, 945 ARR

Reviewed by:
Name: Nanel Ruon
ID: 96-YC6-Z9G-44
Position: Member of Council of Reconciliation
Notes: Well, well, well, I stand corrected. Isha Kiri'e knows exactly what she wants, and exactly how she can get it too. This is going to throw a loth-cat among the birds, and I for one can't wait to see how the High Council reacts. I bet only Jocasta's going to bother to read this. I'll have to ask her if this rule's ever even been invoked before. Isha Kiri'e - whatever reason you're doing this - good luck.

Approved

---

14, Month 2, 945 ARR

I smooth my hands down the robes that Nanel Ruon had got for me after my meeting with the Council of Reconciliation. Ruon sits next to me in the waiting room, both of us ignoring the looks that the council padawan on duty is sending us as we wait for the council to call me in. Treis had lit up when he saw the robe pack Ruon handed me, muttering something about appearances as he wrangled me into wearing them. I don't like them. They stand out too much. Despite what Treis said, I think that they'll make my case weaker - I just look like I'm trying too hard to be something I'm not.

"Isha Kiri'e."

I look up to see the council door open.

"Doctor," Ruon says, standing up.

I take a deep breath. I head into the council room, Ruon following behind me with his hands in his sleeves, the very picture of Jedi serenity.

"Isha Kiri'e," the woman in the Grandmaster's seat says. She sounds bored. She looks distracted, flipping through something on the holopad set into the arm of her chair. "You're here on recommendation of the Council of Reconciliation in order to resolve-" she pauses, finally glancing up at me, "A personal matter requiring approval by the council."

"Yes."

"You have the floor," the Grandmaster tells me. Ruon shifts behind me, and I can feel his amusement.

"I'm here to take the Knighthood trials," I say.

---

I idly kick my feet, letting them swing where they dangle over the edge of the chair, feeling the currents of the force as they move in the council room. The council padawan is staring at me again, though he looks confused rather than irritated this time.

Ruon chuckles a little as the force shifts in the telltale way of something being thrown.

"Aah," he says. "I wonder if they're throwing their chairs at each other."

"Their chairs?"

"There's not much in the council room so that they can't throw anything at each other when they argue. But their chairs aren't bolted down. Master Yoda made sure of that last time they were remodeling. 'If temper tantrums like children they have, then sit like children they will'," Ruon says, making his voice high and croaky like Yoda's.

"That sounds like him," I say, glancing back at the door.

"They're going to let you do it," Ruon says, drawing my attention back to himself.

"It's not like they can stop me," I say, only half joking.

"Isha Kiri'e," the council padawan calls. "You can go back in now."

"Kiri'e," the Grandmaster says when I'm standing before the council again. I notice that some of the chairs have shifted ever so slightly. "Why do you want to take the knighthood trials? We've had members of the Service Corps return to the Knight branch in the past, but only after working extensively with other knights and training for the position. We have no indications of the same with you."

"I act as the force wills," I say, affecting the vague serenity Moros used to put on during holocalls when they were telling us where we were going to go and who we were going to pick up. Precognition's not my thing, but between Moros and Atorm I know what it looks like.

"Yes, well, we need more than that," one of the council members says impatiently. "The trials are difficult physically and we have no indications that you've been in any physical conflict since you left the temple, not to mention all of the diplomacy classes required for our Knights."

I look at him, and then I tell the truth. "I am here because a group of children asked me to be. And I am not here to ask for your permission to take the trials. I am an adult, I do not have a Master to deem me unfit, and by the charter of the Service Corps, you are required to let all adults who ask, take the trials. I am here to inform you that it will happen. Is that all?"

"Of course," one of the female council members says, and I turn. It takes me a moment to recognise Jocasta Nu. She looks much younger now. "That is your right. Might we know when you intend to take the trials?"

"After this meeting is concluded." I'm as prepared as I'm going to be.

"Very well. Then I believe that we are done."

"Thank you, Master Nu," I say, bowing to her. Some of the council members look furious, but they hold their tongues until the doors shut behind me.

"You're going now?" Ruon asks as I head towards the corridor, already stripping out of the robes and folding the pieces over my arm.

"Yes."

"Shu'lin," Arkaitsz says, slipping up next to me and making Ruon startle at their presence. "I can take those."

"I suppose you must be one of the children she was talking about," Ruon says, eyeing Arkaitsz as they stuff the last pieces of my outfit into one of the bags they're carrying.

"Yes," Arkaitsz says simply.

They open the other bag to start passing me the clothes that we'd gone hunting for in the markets while we were waiting for the council to see me. As comfortable as my clothes had been back now, they weren't fit for fighting. Most of them I wouldn't have worn outside a secure facility anyways, meant as they were to bare as much skin as possible for photosynthesis. While I wasn't comfortable with the looks strangers would give me (as secure as I am in my gender identity as female, sexuality is another one of those animal instincts I never quite managed to really pick up), it was more my sense of caution that kept me from wearing them out. But even the clothes I wore outside weren't the best.

The armoured vest I pull on now is a comfortable weight, heavier to this smaller form. The chainmail shifts with my movement between its two layers of fabric, and the elastic laces in the back keep it flexible and close to my body. My bracers go on my forearms before I pull on the sturdy jacket to go over all of that. I'd worn my pants and boots to the meeting so there's no need to change those.

"Sin ka lel?" Arkaitsz asks. How are you?[0]

"Sheta," I reply, rapping my knucles on a bracker under my jacket. Good.

"Ka lel rak?" Are you ready?

"Nele te'ka te'ka," I say stopping in front of the doors to the trial chambers. What will be will be.

The high council isn't here. They probably didn't believe me when I said right after. They're probably still arguing.

"Do you have your lightsaber?" Ruon asks.

"Yes." I probably won't use it, have barely used it in years, but the dark blue blade of my lightsaber still comes when I flick it on and hold it out for him to inspect.

The handle, hidden in my hand, looks more like a sculpture than anything else, carved into beautiful, delicate patterns. I'd worked hard on it, and I'd worked hard again when I remade it for my larger hands, carefully making the metal look like grained wood, and the blade emitter like a flower. It's easy to tell anyone who would ask that it's a religious symbol.

"Then may the force be with you," Ruon says, stepping back, and letting me slip my saber into one of the many pockets of my pants.

I turn to Arkaitsz.

"Te'ka sheta," they say. "Lel ka sheta, Shu'lin."

Be good. You are good, teacher.

I nod at them.

Terys slips out of the shadows followed closely by Miron, and I can feel the slip of Ruon's shock into the Force at their sudden appearance before he can help himself. I kneel down to get on their level, and Terys rears up on his hind legs to put his paws on my shoulders as Miron's middle limbs unfold to pull me closer.

"Myjoksh zai[1]," they whisper before backing off, both looking unbearably smug about using the language of the Sith in a Jedi temple. You will return.

They move back to stand next to Arkatisz. If I reach, I know that I could feel the others, somewhere else in the temple, probably watching the feeds that Miron or Atorm had hacked.

"Nis seka," I say, one hand on the door. I'm going. Then I push the door open, and I go in.

---

In theory there are five trials one needs to go through in order to be named a knight.

The Trial of Skill, the Trial of Courage, the Trial of the Flesh, the Trial of the Spirit, and the Trial of Insight.

They can be completed together or separately.

The Trial of Skill is the oldest and has three parts; the physical test, the mental test, and the test of conflict. It tests your skill, your endurance, and your ability to avoid distraction.

The Trial of Courage is what it sounds like.

The Trial of Flesh involves the ability to overcome your pain - physical or mental.

The Trial of the Spirit is one of self discovery, where you face yourself as you are and as you could be. It's not one the Council can dictate, as intensely personal as it is.

And the Trial of Insight, testing your ability to see the truth through the lies. It seems a little trivial sometimes, especially the way they test it with riddles and puzzles. In the end, the entire order failed this one.

I take a deep breath on the other side of the door and settle in to wait. I'm in the chambers so my test has begun, but while some parts are internal and prompted by the force, you can't exactly demonstrate your skills without an audience.

Eventually I hear a whine start up somewhere in the depths of the chambers. The air slowly starts to get warmer. The lights get brighter. The force shifts around with the interest of unseen watchers. The ozone-ash smell of the hard-light projections fills the room.

When I open my eyes, I'm in a desert. I wrinkle my nose a little. Just because I'd stolen my skin from succulents to combat water loss as a moving creature doesn't mean I like deserts. I push off of the door and stride out into the desert, pulling the hood of my jacket up to shade my eyes. I'm already wilting, and I resist the urge to scowl at the false sky. It's whatever. They're definitely not obliged to keep me comfortable here, and if anything they have a duty to make sure I'm as uncomfortable as possible. The Trials of Flesh and Skill demand that.

I stop in the middle of the area, closing my eyes again and just feeling the world around me.

There's a shift in the intent of the force, then the hum of a droid activating. It comes flying at me, showing like the toys they use to teach kids to trust in the force.

I smile, because if there was one thing that I got to be very good at, it was taking down droids.

"Here," I tell the droid, reaching out with the force to - twist.

The older a droid is, the longer between personality wipes, the more of a person the droid is the less this works. The droids that survive are stubborn to the last. But this droid is young, and though I can tell by the model that it must have been made decades ago, it had only been activated for this fight with me, and it only knows how to do what its programming tells it with none of the bugs or hiccups that allow it to think outside of the box.

This droid chokes on a gasp of smoke before dropping into my cupped hands. I hold it gently, ignoring the surprise of my watchers as I wait for the droid to reboot, letting it read over the lines of code I changed to suit my needs.

"Hello," I tell the droid when its visual processor whirs and recalibrates. "Why don't you go try something else?"

The droid lets out a chittering string of binary, then flies out of my hands and away across the sand.

My next opponent is harder. It has a personality, one strong enough that I can't twist it. It goes down with its central processing unit torn out - perfectly intact - though its body and the wires trailing out of its chest are torn up. I pick up its staff and twirl it as I move away from it. Luckily the droid had been about my size, so I can actually wield its staff.

The next droid is bigger than I am.

And then there's another dorid, and another, and other, and waves of droids, one after the next until they're tripping over each other trying to get to me.

Some are new droids, shutting down in the middle of the sand with a quick twist, others are older, not stopping until I've ripped out their wires. Sometimes the ceiling gets closer, the sand level rising as they cover the fallen doids to keep the new ones from tripping.

Perhaps, if I didn't know better, I might compare this to the fighting in the Clone Wars. But I can't, even though I'd only been on the front lines a couple times when the retreat caught up with relief efforts or supply lines and we had to either abandon everything or carry it at a run. The droids manufactured for that war had all been sterilely identical, and changes between models were almost nonexistent, even if they were meant for a wildly different purpose, in order to keep production costs down. And their lifespans were so short that I never felt even one with a real personality. Each droid they send at me here and now is so different from the last, and so many of them shine with their own personalities.

Eventually the droids stop coming, and after a minute, I sit down on a rock that sticks out of the sand and concentrate on getting my breath back, wishing vaguely that I'd brought something to drink. I reach up to touch my hair, and wince a little at how dry and brittle it feels. I probably won't be able to take it down after this until I've gotten at least one's night's sleep and as much water as I can reasonably drink, and then maybe a little more.

I ignore the blooming of the bruises under my vest where the odd blow had caught me. My vest had protected me as it was meant to and kept me from getting any cuts and scrapes. It would have even worked against a vibroblade if they'd dared to send one against me for my trial, the individual broken links not affecting the integrity of the whole nearly as much as the breaking of a plate would if I wore plate armor.

Underneath the projection of the sand, there's more hard light clearing away the droid parts and droids. Those that are still mobile are being encouraged towards one of the service doorways while someone else dumps droid parts into a constantly circulating trail of hover-carts.

They're still working at it when the simulacrum appears. I open my eyes when I feel it step onto the sand out of nowhere. They must be using a holocron for this. I can feel the mind behind the holocron, the flash-freeze mental patterns of a holocron made by someone no longer alive, resigned to not changing and unsure of how to go forward.

"Hello," they say, stepping forwards across the sands until they're standing before me. They're humanoid, and their skin is green, but not in a way that indicates chlorophyll, and their cheeks are sunken, but not in a way that seems unhealthy[2].

"Master," I reply, because it is what is expected of me, even as the word burns in my mouth.

They stare at me, their brow furrowing a little as they reach for the force. "No," they say. "No, don't call me that. Not like that."

I stare at them for a moment. "No?"

"No," they say firmly. "Not- not like that. My name is Inarun Tasia, kar/they, and if you must call me by a title, I am a Healer and I am Jaieh. I am not purroch - Im tumi eno'ah foh nak purroch - I am not that."[3]

I know the language. I don't understand it - Dai Bendu is old and older, and at some point the Order decided that it was easier to only teach children Basic. I know there's a good portion of the Order that still speaks it despite that, some of the creche masters teaching it to their students, some masters to their padawans. The AgriCorps centers offer classes. I'd never had the time to take one, but I'd picked up a little due to osmosis, hanging around Torkal.

And there's something about their tone of voice . . .

"Jaieh Tasia, then," I say. Teacher Tasia. "I am Isha Kiri'e, she, Ao'lin. As such, I am Kiri'e'lin."

"Kiri'e'lin," Tasia says, dipping in a perfect Jedi bow. After that, they sit down in the sand next to my rock, looking out across the false desert. After a long moment, they ask, "Why are you here, Isha Kiri'e?"

"Is that really what you want to ask?" I reply. "There are so many answers I could give. Do you want philosophy or practicality or the truth as I would tell it?"

Tasia's lips quirk slightly. "Let me rephrase. Why are you here, in the trials chambers Kiri'e'lin? Why are you here to be a knight? Why now? What is it that you cannot do as you are?"

I study Tasia's face for a moment.

"And why are you here Jaieh Tasia?"

". . . I'm-"

"A simulacrum? A holocron?"

Tasia brinks at me, looking shocked. Their hands come up to clutch at the fabric over their chest like they're expecting a necklace there.

"How old are you Jaieh?" I ask. "How long have you been here? Do you want me to guess?"

Tasia stares at me mutely.

"You did a good job with your robes," I tell them, closing my eyes again and flopping back on the stone so my face is in full sun for maximum photosynthesis. "We haven't changed them much over the years, but the tunics have gotten shorter, and no longer tend to be split up the side because of that. The most common brown is still being sourced from Thape cohoor-roots. But the fabric you're using - that's actual woven fabric, isn't it? It drapes differently than the printed fabrics we tend to use nowadays. It's not a big difference, I know knights that prefer actual weave to printed - but you were so very careful with the rest of your outfit, trying to look painfully average."

"That's- you put a lot of thought into that," Tasia says. "You sound like some sort of fashion expert."

"You don't last long in a war if you don't pay attention," I tell them.

"A war?"

"There's always a war going on in this galaxy." I let them and the listeners make of that what they may.

"Is that why you are here?"

I laugh a little at that, at how they managed to pull us full circle. And then like with the Jedi council, I tell the truth.

"I am here for my children," I say. "I am here because they asked me to be here. I am here because they need me to be here. I am here now because they need me here now and I was not here before because they did not need me before."

I tell them, "I am not here to prove anything to myself. I am here to help, and I will become a knight because there are people I need to be a knight to help. I am here, in the trial chambers because this is the fastest way to become a knight and I am here because they need a knight soon.

"I believe that answers all your questions," I say. "But what about you, Jaieh?"

"I don't-" They stop. Through the Force, they feel a lot grumpier than I had been at being called out for avoiding the question.

"Naki sedorem, naki sedorem," they mutter.

Words, words . . . I think.

"Tamah qa brok vaversi, ji enoah qa mikodail orhma bika," I say to them, noting the way they startle. Outside it is cold, but we are all warm together here. It's a greeting, and one of the few sentences in Dai Bendu that had stuck with me. I remember hearing it from the Jedi who found me on Search, stumbling around the forest in a freshly budded body. The man had sounded - in the way my people would describe it - like the chattering of a good brook to put down roots beside, like the warmth of the sun on your leaves, like the blood and flesh of a dead animal on your roots as it decomposes into nutrients.

He was very patient with me as we travelled to Coruscant, helping me learn how to use my new body and teaching me words, even when I couldn't say them myself. In another time, another place, I would have been his padawan. Precognition is not one of my gifts, but I remember that one flash, hanging clear in my mind, the two of us sitting together in what I later figured out was one of the meditation gardens in the temple, a pot of tea and a book of poetry on the table between us.

After I found it, before I declared for AgriCorps, I used to spend all of my free time in that garden.

I wish I could be there now. I know that I know what it looks like, I know that I loved the tree flowers there the most, but right now all I can picture is the pond filled with cool water in the center.

"I do not speak, but tell me what you can," I tell Tasia. "We can try."

There's the rustle of hair against cloth. "Dai, I'm supposed to be the teacher here. You're very good at this." They pause. "You're right. I am . . . old." They lean back on their hands, finally relaxing a little. "I can't believe I forgot to look into fabrics."

"You did a good job," I offer. "And it's not like actual weave is unpopular. Just not the most so. And both fabrics use the same materials, so you got nothing wrong there."

"Yes," Tasia says absently. "Why do you care?"

"Is there a reason I shouldn't?"

"You said it yourself - I'm just a long dead imprint of some ancient Jedi's consciousness on a data-storage device. You'll probably never see me again after this meeting. Why waste the emotion?"

"A couple questions there," I observe. "For one, who cares if you are an imprint of someone else. You are alive. You are real. You are yourself. Why should you be any less alive than my ship? I can feel your presence in the Force and when it bends around you it does so at your actions, not the pulling of far off puppet strings. Who says I will not see you again? Unless you intend to delete yourself after the trial, we will both still exist. You may be on an ancient holocron, but you are a Jedi and you have clearly not been deemed too dangerous - there will be nothing stopping us from meeting. And as for emotional investment - you are a Jedi, which means you are my family. And you are alive, which means you matter. Even if we never do meet again we still would have met this once."

"That's . . . not wrong," they say.

I shug. It's only the truth. I may have trouble making long term connections, but I still feel. I still care.

They sigh. Below us, I can feel the last of the droid parts being cleared out by little vacuuming mousebots, the sand level is slowly sinking.

"What was your question again?"

"Why are you here?" I repeat.

"I see what you mean, that is vague."

"Well, I did ask a couple more. How old are you? How long have you been here? Do you want me to guess?"

"Haj dai," they say immediately. "Yes, guess."

"Ah," I stutter, caught off guard a little. The offer had been joking more than serious. Tasia truly had done a good job at making themself seem a knight of this period. I won't go back on it, but . . .

I sit up and look at Tasia closely. I have to close my eyes for a moment, reaching for the Force to mitigate the way my head swims with the motions before I can really look. They're fidgeting with the hem of their tunic, tugging it lower - they're probably from before it got shortened to where it is now. I eye how far they try to tug it. At least a hand's length longer, likely.

And the belt - the belt is odd actually. Not the belt itself - a perfectly generic leather variation with detailing over the abdomen, but the wear and tear on the belt. I can see Tasia's lightsaber hanging from a belt attachment where their overrobe is falling open. And next to the belt attachment is a patch of leather where the shiny surface had worn away. It makes me frown a little. I hadn't seen it earlier - hadn't been at the right angle to see it. It wouldn't be odd if Tasia had a belt pouch - plenty of people find them useful. But it's odd that they'd taken the pouch off, but left the mark on their belt.

An idea starts to form as I stare at them. The hologram form was defined by Tasia's wishes, yes, that's why they'd managed the modern robes. But it's also defined by their subconscious self image.

I glance at the actual saber hilt hanging on Tasia's belt, looking for - . . . there it is. Just like I'd seen in the archives. Not enough of a clue on its own given the variety of lightsaber hilts, but in combination with the shiny patch on the belt.

"You're from around four thousand seven to nine hundred years ago, aren't you?" I ask.

"Wha- how'd you know?" Tasia demands.

"Your belt and your saber." I point. "You've got a shiny patch where something should hang, but doesn't, and I recognized the power cable attachment."

"Really?" they ask. "That's what did it?"

"I mean, that's only if I'm right-"

"You're right. Jedi Jaieh sydehv," they swear. "First the fabric, then my lightsaber?"

"It's not that big-"

"Maybe I should retire."

"Really, you have to have seen a lightsaber that need-"

"Maybe I should quit."

". . ."

"There's got to be some newer holocron that can do a better job."

". . ."

"Nothing to say?"

"Are you done interrupting me?"

". . . yes."

"I'm very good at remembering random facts."

"Alright . . ." Tasia says slowly.

"And I very much doubt many people are thinking about the average fabric of the Order or about lightsabers that haven't been relevant since long before the Treaty of Coruscant."

"Alright," Tasia repeats, sounding more confident.

"So?" I ask, flopping backwards again, relieved to close my eyes again.

"So what?"

"So why are you here? I guessed your age - correctly even. Your turn."

"You just gave me an existential crisis and you want me to tell you why I'm still here?"

"Why you're still here - and why you're conducting the Trials apparently."

"Dai - that's even more! I don't know what I expected." Tasia sighs. "I guess . . . I'm here because it is right to be. Because I believe that the information on my holocron is still helpful. Because of history and fashion, because I was bored. I remember when they first built these trial rooms. The solid light holograms weren't the best back then, but even so, it was amazing to be able to reach out and-" I feel a finger slide down my cheek "-touch.

"The hibernation I can go into between uses has always scared me," they admit. "Like hibernation for lightspeed that you always hear the horror stories about - the ships that we sometimes pick up out of space, and the people within speak a language long dead, or worse their hibernation failed. I'm scared that I will go to sleep and never wake up."

I can feel them in the Force, the thought bleeding like a treasured wound before they tuck it away.

"The trials are a good way to pass the time. Or at least they were, before missions started getting precedence again."

"And have I passed?" I ask, keeping my eyes closed and my breathing steady. "Because creature of the Force or no, I do have physical limitations, and I'm starting to hit them."

"Kiri'e'lin?" Tasia asks, sounding far away and alarmed.

"I've been regulating the heat stroke as best I can," I hear myself say faintly. "But that's not going to help if I pass out from dehydration. My species isn't the best at managing water loss."

The hum of the heaters drops somewhere in the distance, and I find myself dropping the last couple feet to the ground before Tasia catches me.

"Let's get you out of here," I think I hear them say, but the movement of walking makes my head spin and pound, and there's a rushing sound in my ears. A door opens, letting in a waft of cool air, and suddenly there are more voices, then I'm being carefully put on a stretcher.

"Tasia," I think I manage to say. "Jaieh Taisia, come visit."

"Shu'lin," Arkaitsz says. I feel their fingers brush my forehead, and for once in our lives they're cooler than I am. "Te'vesran," they order. Sleep.

I sleep.

---

I come to to the familiar sound of fingers on glass; the smell of disinfectant, blood, tree-syrup, and shit; the dull pain of an IV; and the feeling of the artificial light they bill as a good substitute for photosynthesizers.

When I open my eyes, the ceiling above me is that no-longer-familiar institutional while, and I tense for a split second, ready to bolt upright, before an indigo-blue hand lands squarely on my chest to keep me down, making some of the water in my tub splash..

"No," Tinor says, scowling. "You are going to lay right there until I say you can get up."

". . . sorry," I say, letting myself relax back into the padded bottom of the tub at the familiar face, reaching for him and sinking myself into the reassurance he projects under his annoyance.

". . . I'll help you sit up though," Tinor says.

"Thank you."

As my upper body slowly tilts upward, the lower part of the bed sinks further down into the tub to keep me mostly submerged. It's the standard aquatic-species medical bed, I recognize, with the air breather adaptations. Definitely one of the better ways to help me get some water back when I get that dehydrated, and probably a good way to help me cool down.

"Here," Tinor says, holding out a tall cup. "You're probably going to start shedding the dead tissue soon, so drink up."

"Oh!" I light up at the sight of the smoothie as I take it from him. "Is it fresh?"

"The blood isn't," Tinor says, crossing his arms on the side of the tub and resting his chin on them as he watches me. "They just dumped in their oldest stock. The shit might be, I think I heard someone complaining about sewer diving. And Moros is the one who brought the tree-syrup, so only Moros knows about that."

I hum happily at the first sip and drink it slowly, trying to pace myself. I sigh a little when I'm done, and I hand the cup back out to Tinor to put away.

"How's my hair doing?"

"It's still brown and brittle looking. You know it's always the first to go. I think the cores might have survived though, there's some light green near your scalp where the outsides flaked off."

"I'm sorry it got this far," I say.

Tinor sighs. Despite his suddenly younger body, he looks exactly his age in that moment. "It's alright Shu'lin."

I go to speak, then I pause, stumbling over what he'd called me. Shu'lin. Not Ao'lin, not Kiri'e'lin like he used to, not even Isha'lin like I've grown used to from the others.

"Shu'lin?" I ask.

"Aren't you?" Tinor replies, smirking a little. "We did all designate you as our prefered guardian."

"You didn't need to," I feel compelled to say.

"I know," Tinor says. His eyes go distant. "You're the closest thing I've had though." He shakes his head and looks at me again. "Besides, I wanted to."

I nod, sinking down into the water more until the lower half of my face is under as I blink away tears.

Tinor's face is soft and he reaches over to grab my hand where it's resting on the armrest to keep the IV out of the water.

"I'll go get a nurse."

Tinor comes back a couple minutes later, trailing a human nurse and Cosian Jedi I remember from the Council room.

The nurse takes a blood sample to plug into the machine set into the wall, then while that's running, he scans me with a handheld device.

He sighs a little at whatever result the scanner throws, then goes over to check the machine that was running the blood sample when it beeps.

"Alright," he says, looking over the display as he removes the sample and disposes of it. "It looks like we still haven't found a species baseline to properly compare you to, but you seem to be returning to your recorded baseline levels. Initiate Jason says you drank the smoothie we left?"

"I did," I say.

"Good," the nurse says, pulling out a sterilizer and going over the machine with it. "That should balance out the imbalances I'm seeing . . ." He sighs and puts away the sterilizer, before moving over to stand next to the tub. "Your temperature's still higher than normal, so I want you to stay in the tub for a while longer. You can get out when it beeps and the light here," he moves to tap a glowing panel set into the rim of the tub, "turns red. A nurse should come to help you, and you will be free to leave then."

"Thank you," I say.

Sharp eyes linger on me for a moment before he nods shortly and leaves.

"I am Tera Sinube," the Council member says when I turn to look at him.

I sketch a bow, though it's mostly lifting my free arm and nodding. "Master Sinube. Are you here about the trial?"

"Yes," he says. "You did not use your lightsaber, though Counselor Nanel Ruon says you had one."

"I did not need it."

"You did not," Sinube acknowledges, nodding. "It is, however, required that you have skill with it. you have passed the other trials. Courage for asking this of us. Flesh for your heat stroke and wounds. Spirit is not for us to judge. And Insight with Master Tasia. For Skill, you have shown endurance, you have shown physical ability and mental ability. Should you still wish to pass Skill, we require that you fight the Battlemaster for his assessment."

"I accept."

Sinube nods thoughtfully, then glances over at where Tinor is again sitting next to me. "It will be arranged," he says, and he bows to me before leaving.

"How is everyone?" I ask Tinor when we're alone.

"They're alright. This isn't- this isn't the worst we've seen. We were near treatment. We were near you. The worst part was that we had to watch it happen."

"I'm sorry," I say.

"We asked this of you," Tinor says. He rubs at his eyes and sniffs.

"Can I ask - how did you get them to let you in?"

"Turns out the prefered guardian papers are more useful than we thought they were," Tinor says, managing a weak smile. "They had to let us in. I kicked everyone out after a couple minutes though for crowding the room too much."

"I'm glad," I say, closing my eyes.

"Go to sleep, Shu'lin," Tinor says gently, the bed slowly reclining back until only my face is out of the water. "I'll keep watch."

---

I end up staying overnight even after the glowing panel changes. Tinor talks with the nurse who comes to help me, and I hear something about Neti, which while admittedly fair as one of the most well known of the admittedly few actually-a-plant aliens, rather than just one of the plethora that figured out some form of photosynthesis. And admittedly, this is probably one of the better ways to get me properly rehydrated and to soften all of the dead tissue I'm going to have to scrub off in a day or so. But I really really hate being compared to a Neti, because I am very much not a Neti, and being treated as one in the past has gone . . .

Even besides the death of the master who brought me to the order, the master I'd seen I could be happy with, there was a reason I'd ended up in AgriCorps in the end. I'd wanted to be a Jedi knight - I really had. I'd been top of my class in lightsaber forms, and I'd done pretty well in the diplomacy classes. I'd seen the masters looking. Meditating in the garden, I'd seen the possibilities.

It was just a common cold. I was sent to the healers, and they gave me a room and a fever reducer and told me to call if my symptoms got worse. I would have been fine just waiting it out even. Instead, when the nurse came in to check on me I was covered in hives and having trouble breathing. The doctors trying to fix it made it worse. I barely survived.

And then they ran full panels for allergies, and carefully tested other meds.

Some of the masters asked me, afterwards. They didn't know about my condition, it was private medical knowledge. None of them were willing to take me after I told them. To this day I don't know what I would have done if one had been willing.

I didn't have the time or resources to fix it as an initiate. And so I got sent off to AgriCorps to bide my time and work on an improved form. Genetics were easy, and what they wanted me to do was in the end simpler than the work I'd done to make myself.

Tinor knows this. By the time I met him, I'd already changed myself to look more human, but the genes I used for that were even more buggy because I'd made them so quickly. Tinor's field of study is drugs and drug interactions, and while he knew enough about the more prolific races like humans and twi'leks, his specialty was studying unknown interactions. Without him, I would have died early on in our mission to keep Force sensitive children safe - if not from treating a wound, then from my own hastily cobbled together body.

In the morning, the nurse comes to take out my IV and to help me out of the tub. The night spent soaking helped quite a bit, but even without it I would have been fine. I can feel my skin and hair doing their level best to peel off though, and I'm really not looking forward to that. I love Hokkaitam, my ship is wonderful. My ship also does not have the largest freshers, which can make deep cleans where I have to scrub every inch of my body a bit difficult.

"They have medical pools meant for washing," Tinor says as we make our way towards the waiting room of the healers wing when he sees me rubbing at the skin of my wrist, already coming loose.

"Do you think you can get me one?" I ask under my breath.

"They'll probably be delighted to hear you're doing this in a sanitary environment," Tinor says. "They still don't know fuck all about your biology, and the way you shed looks a lot like sunburn. They might try to get you to put a lotion on afterwards, but you can refuse that easily enough. I don't know your current biology well enough to make any accurate judgements."

"Then please," I say.

Tinor smiles at me, then shifts to walk slightly faster so he can talk with the secretary manning the desk in the waiting room. They glance over at me as he talks, nodding slightly, then they pull up a holo screen to show Tinor.

"-hot's not a good idea right now, and neither is freezing," I catch as I draw closer. "We'll take one of the cool pools."

"Of course," the secretary says. They lean forwards to fiddle with the settings, bringing up a much reduced list. "Here are the choices in that category. I would recommend," they scroll down the list, then tap one entry, bringing up a picture of a pool mostly surrounded by plants, with a small tiled area to one side, "this room. We maintain a forcefield to keep the pool sanitized, but quite a few have found that the proximity to plants helps."

I nod at Tinor's glance over to me.

The pool is nice. After the sterility of the room I'd been in overnight and the hard light projection of a desert before that, it's nice to be surrounded by plants just doing what they're meant to be doing. It makes me miss Hokkaitam. The outer layer of my skin comes off without too much trouble. It doesn't hurt to scrub at it like a sunburn, thankfully, which makes that much easier. My hair takes more time, as I have to slowly ease the brittle sheathes off of the living core. I look paler than I had before, all of my newer cells not flush with chlorophyll yet.

Torkal is there when we leave the Halls of Healing. I roll my eyes at him, but I don't protest as he escorts us back down into the bowels of the temple where Hokkaitam is. As we get the hanger I can feel the worried hum of Hokkaitam's processors. When I step up into the airlock, there's the familiar buzz and blue light of Hokkaitam's scanners - which are quite useful for checking everyone who comes on board to make sure they don't bring anything harmful that could infect all of my plants, but which pull double duty as Hokkaitam's way to check my health.

Hokkaitam lets out a scathing series of whistles as they run the scan field over me - up, down, and then a couple more times just in case.

"Yes, I know," I tell them. "I'm sorry, I'll try to do better."

At that, Hokkaitam lets out an electric sigh.

"It's not your fault," Torkal says as he steps up next to me. "For you, the temple is supposed to be safe."

The door on the other side of the airlock slides open before I can say anything, so I just give him a look before I step forwards to pass through the second force field and into the ship propper.

The air is filled with the smell of spice.

Okay, wait, not spice-spice, spice-sp-

That's not any clearer.

The air is filled with the scent of spice, as in flavorful aromatic herbs that can be used to season food, not spice, as in drugs. Which is good because re: medical issues.

I smile at that, moving at my own pace through the corridors until I reach the room that we'd set up as a kitchen in the future, and I pause in the doorway. My smoothie blender is obviously still there, and my massive compost bin as well, but someone had cleared space on the counter for two hot plates a couple days ago. Nila is cooking in a big pot on one of the hot plates, and when she lifts her stirring spoon, I catch a glimpse of the bright red - lucky red to Nila's people - of the darcha gravy. At the other hot plate, Terys is mostly just sitting on the ledge that lets me see the counter, glaring at Nila and occasionally getting up to tend the anet flat bread he's got cooking. There are plates waiting for food, and the glasses I'd kept for guests (because given my version of food it isn't really sanitary to share) are out and filled with everyone's prefered drinks.

It's a familiar sight. And this is the first time I've seen it since I came back, frantic and achingly alone. There's all nine of my crew members once Torkal and Tinor have slid past me into the room, and one extra I already knew well.

I close my eyes against the tears and lean against the doorway, before I swipe at my eyes with my sleeve and go in.

I'm home.

---

The humming of lightsabers makes my skin prickle warily.

Across the sparring circle from me is Cerad Aeme, the current Battlemaster. Apparently my determination to do this interested him enough that he'd volunteered to spar with me himself, rather than sending one of his assistants to do so.

Of all the trials, I can say definitively that this is that I am least prepared for.

When I was an initiate, I only ever learned Shii-Cho, the first and simplest form. I'd barely been able to practice it on my own during my AgriCorps years.

During the war I picked up some Soresu and Shien to defend myself and others from the droids' blaster bolts. I certainly never mastered either, only used what I could from them, and figured out other tricks to account for how being short limited my range.

I'd kept up those three forms when the empire started, though I had to relearn them in my new body. Smuggling Force-sensitive children got me shot at quite a bit. I also picked up Makashi in bits and pieces from Terys, Atorm, and Torkal for the brief moments when I'd get caught by one of the Emperor's Sith Adepts or Inquisitors.

Very little of that will help me now. Oh, I'd practiced some since we got back, trying to adjust to my new body. I can slide through the Shii-Cho forms easily enough, but trying the other forms I'd learned trips me up immediately as I try to compensate for factors that no longer apply. This had happened last time, in my new body. It takes time to learn and adapt. And that time is something I don't have.

I don't need to win this fight though, not against the Battlemaster. I only need to show my skills.

The hum of Aeme's saber goes up as he swings it at me almost lazily.

I block, sinking into the Force. For this, I'd learned I am served best not by my Jedi's understanding, but by the eb and flow of colors as the world changes around me that Nila had taught all of us. I don't worry about intentions, only the green to blue to green to blue of Aeme's intent. It has much less to do with thoughts than the Jedi view, and works even where another might fool a Jedi.

I block and I block and I strike and block.

I block and I strike and I block and so on.

I do none of the aerial acrobatics that smaller beings tend to use, and I can feel the discomfort Aeme has with this.

When I strike, I do so with the dueler's precision of Makashi and the force of my base Shii-cho.

I've already shown my endurance, so I don't bother with the fancy energy-wasting moves so many favor.

I move fluidly between the styles that I know, defensive Soresu one moment and offensive Shii-cho the next, all of my trouble earlier today seemingly forgotten.

I strike and I block, and I take the opening to hit Aeme's saber right out of his hand as I climb up his back to hold my saber at his throat.

"Yield," I tell him.

"I yield," he says.

I'm not even breathing hard.

I retreat, and bow when he turns to look at me, an odd look on his face.

He returns the bow, then says, "Again."

He's on the ground in five minutes.

"Again."

Five minutes again.

And again.

And again.

The spectators are muttering, and I cast a hopeless look at those of my children who had come to watch. I'm not this good, I know I'm not this good.

Aeme goes down again. He stays down this time, the look on his face unchanging.

"Battlemaster Aeme," Jocasta Nu of the High Council says. "What is your verdict?"

"She passes," he says.

The rest of the High Council are gathered in a knot in the stands, but Jocasta Nu only turns to me.

"You then have passed all of your trials. With no master to grant it. I hereby name you a knight," she says. "The paperwork will be filed, and a copy sent to you. It was a pleasure."

"To you as well, Master Nu," I say, bowing to her.

My hands are trembling when Miron catches one to tug me out of the salle. I can feel the eyes boring into my back.

"That was wrong," I say, blindly letting Miron lead me. "That shouldn't- I shouldn't have been able to- That was the Battlemaster. I stopped learning as an initiate. That-"

"It was more extreme than I thought," Miron says. "But it was expected."

"What? That was the Battlemaster! I'm not a-" I finally glance around a modulate my volume so I'm hissing at Miron as I'm pulled through the temple. "I'm not a good fighter! What do you mean you expected that."

Miron tugs me through a doorway before stopping to turn around and look at me. "You survived. Shu'lin, the emperor had just killed off every Jedi he could, and you may not have been fighting, but you were on the front lines pulling medic duty. And then he sent me and everyone else he had trained to hunt down the rest of the Jedi Order. And you survived. You picked up a habit of saving force sensitive children from us, and you survived. I don't even think you remember all of the times I alone almost killed you before I was in a position to join you. And sure you were only buying time to run - but you bought time and you survived. Vader was obsessed with finding Obi-Wan Kenobi, but for the rest of us you were the number one enemy. And Shu'lin. You survived."[4]

"But you can defeat me!"

"Yeah," Miron says slowly. "After I practiced with you."

"I- oh." I hunch my shoulders and look around, trying to think of something else to talk about, trying to just . . . give myself time to process.

We're in a dusty store room, the shelves filled with what appears to be bolts of cloth.

"Look," Miron says softly, "later on there were probably some Jedi who could beat you. Obi-wan Kenobi, maybe Qui-Gon Jinn, and more during the Clone Wars once they started actually fighting for their lives. But before this, the Sith have been in hiding for a thousand years. You Jedi are not bad at keeping your students, so few have deserted. Very few of you have had to fight another lightsaber user for your life. On the other hand, Shu'lin, that's practically all you did. You would spar with us sometimes, and pick up bits and pieces. It did you good. It made you more deadly, it made you learn moderation. But Shu'lin, you fought very few battles where the goal was not to draw out the fight to help us escape and to kill your opponent at the first opportunity."

Somewhat plaintively, I say, "But I didn't want to be that good."

"Shu'lin," Miron says, finally sounding a little exasperated. "You use the Endurance form to take down your opponents quickly. It may not be your passion, but you are very good at saber-fighting. Spray blue about it[5] all you want, unless you stick around and help that's not going to change."

I smack Miron's leg reflexively at the cursing.

"Hey! Arkaitsz isn't here!"

"True . . ." I muse, then my eyes narrow and I try to swat Miron again. "Don't try to trick me, all of you adopted me. All of you are now my responsibility - no cursing in my hearing!"

"I didn't adopt you! That was just the temple kids! And we're all over fifty!"

"Miron," I say, giving a look. "Who do you want contacted when Child Services catches you? Me or your parents?"

"On the other hand I'm sure you're a wonderful parent and I'd be delighted to have you," Miron says quickly.

"It's not like you're not already calling me Shu'lin," I remind Miron.

"It's not like everyone else isn't already calling you that," Miron says before sighing. "Do you feel better Shu'lin?"

I look around the storeroom.

I don't, actually, feel better. Bad enough to defeat the Battlemaster, worse to be told that was expected, worse to be told the entire order is like this. But it's not like there's anything I can do about it. I doubt even following Miron's joking suggestion that I could stay to teach would truly help. My crew's been tossing around various plans to fix things, but I can't find it in myself to stop being terrified that the Jedi are going to die again, and this does nothing to stop that ominously hovering feeling of doom.

But my hands aren't shaking anymore.

"I'll be fine," I say, It's a familiar lie.

---

Coruscant Jedi Order Level Change Form

Name: Isha Kiri'e
ID: 85-XC5-Y8F-33

Level prior:
[ ] Initiate [ ] Padawan [ ] Knight
[ ] Master [x] Other: AgriCrops

Change to:
[ ] Initiate [ ] Padawan [x] Knight
[ ] Master [ ] Other:

On the authority of: Jocasta Nu
Relation: High Council Member
Finder/Crechemaster/Master: N/A

Date: 15, Month 2, 945 ARR

Pending Approval and Review

Quartermaster's Department Use Only

Approved: (Y) / N

Reviewed by:
Name: Ianale Osuli
ID: 8Z-IX6-G3F-58

New ID necessary: (Y)/N
New ID: H9-73F-DT8-PT

Approved

---

Initiate Of Age Declaration Form

Initiate:
Name: Arkaitsz Kaya
ID: HE-6KD-7HO-CC

Path:
[ ] AgriCorps [ ] EduCorps
[ ] ExploriCoprs [ ] MediCorps
[x] Prefered Guardian [ ] Foster Home Placement

Date: 15, Month 2, 945 ARR

Pending Approval and Review

Quartermaster's Department Use Only

Approved: (Y) / N

Reviewed by:
Name: Ianale Osuli
ID: 8Z-IX6-G3F-58
Notes: Oh, hello again. I remember you. And I did end up getting a couple off planet requests for verification of Isha Kiri'e as a guardian after I filled yours. I just filled Master Nu's request to give Kiri'e her knighthood. You lot are up to something. Well, I hope it goes well. At the very least it was amusing to see Aeme put down so many times.

Approved

---

Padawan Claim Form

Knight/Master:

Name: Isha Kiri'e
ID: H9-73F-DT8-PT

Padawan:

Name: Atrom Itnal
ID: UK-3IR-1O0-QT

Date: 15, Month 2, 945 ARR

Padawan Approved: (Y)/N
Knight Approved: (Y)/N

Pending Approval and Review

Quartermaster's Department Use Only

Approved: (Y) / N

Reviewed by:
Name: Ianale Osuli
ID: 8Z-IX6-G3F-58
Notes: Okay, I'm not even mad at this point, I just want to know what Kiri'e is doing. She's got like ten kids now! And I'm fairly certain that not one of them has been in a position to meet her before this. Arkaitsz Kaya of the sassy notes sent a couple suspicious emails not too long ago and all of the kids came here and followed Isha. Force I hope we don't have another cult on our hands.

Approved

---

I can feel people's eyes on me as I make my way to the creche, where the Initiates live. I think the entire Order knows about me now, which is not ideal, but whatever.

Atorm is waiting at the door to his clan's dorms, his stuff all packed away in a bag sling over his shoulder. His crechemaster, a twi'lek, is fussing over him worriedly, rubbing light at his lekku where they connect to the stumps of his young montrals.

"-not going to kick you out," the crechemaster says as I draw closer.

"I know that Teacher Star-Tails," Atorm says patiently, shrugging the strap of his bag back up his shoulder as it shifts with his signing. "I don't think I'm getting kicked out, I'm just waiting."

"Atorm," I say, halting in front of him. "Are you ready to go?"

"I'm all packed," Atorm confirms, shifting so his bag swings slightly in demonstration.

The crechemaster glances between us. "Hello," she says, her hands automatically moving with the words she speaks out loud. "I'm Crechemaster Garenth Kalaw-" she signs Teacher Star-Tails, then fingerspells her name, "and you're Isha Kiri'e-"

"Isha Kiri'e," I repeat, signing Crown-Heart before fingerspelling it for her.

"Right," she says. "How do you know Atorm?" She signs Rust-Hunt first, before fingerspelling out Atorm, and I resist the urge to coo at Atorm for having kept the same name sign.

"Some of my children know him from when they were on Creche duty, and I believe that he's been sneaking away to see them for the past couple days," I say to her. "And he's got so much potential, I decided to take him as my padawan."

"Just like that?" Kalaw asks warily. "You only just became a knight."

"I'm not exactly your typical knight," I reply, noting the way her silent hands tighten at that. "I have a foster parent license and a teaching license."

"You - do?"

"The planets I get sent to are bad," I tell her. "I always pick up a couple orphans and most of the time there's no government on planet to give them to safely. And smuggling them off plant would help, but it's hard to get an illegally moved and theoretically kidnapped child into a foster system." I shrug. "I think I might have picked up a couple Child Protective Services registrations too for when there really wasn't a government."

Or when there were slavers, or when the kids were from the Outer Rim and their parents weren't actually registered anywhere either. . .

"And will you be going to those types of places with Atorm?" Kalaw asks, eyes narrowed.

"No," I say simply. And it's true, I won't be going to drought and famine ridden planets anymore.

Instead we'll be fighting wars, I think.

I don't say that to her as I watch her shoulders relax a little, making her sign looser.

"Good,'' she says. She turns to Atorm and crouches down to look him in the eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this? You seemed like you would really rather dance."

"Isha won't make me fight," Atorm says. "But if I stay someone else will."

"Alright," Kalaw says. "If you're sure."

She straightens up and turns to me, looking suddenly uncertain. "If you don't mind- could you- would you mind sending-"

"Pictures and stories?"

"Yes," Kalaw says. "He's so young. I thought I had another five years, at least."

I think about the man who'd brought me to the temple. He'd been very kind, and I would have wanted to know him even if he hadn't been the first person I was able to really interact with.

"I know," I say. "I promise."

---

Atorm's sitting in the pilot's seat before me like usual as we lift off. He'd belly flopped on the steering yoke to prove that he could reach all of the controls on his side, and honestly we all prefer him there where his precognition is most likely to save us, even if he's a little small for it. And Savit's sitting in the copilot's chair, his purple lekku carefully arranged so he's not sitting on them. He'd been ExploriCorps before he joined our crew, and he's the oldest one here besides me, so he's our best choice for co-pilot.

When I reach out, I can feel Arkaitsz and Nila together in the room they share with Savit. Arkaitsz reaches back, catching me with a burst of love sweet like chira fruits, and an image of the fold up bed they've got dismantled to trade for the bigger one in another room.

:Hyperspace,: I remind them gently. Wouldn't want any injuries or messed up plants from that crashing around.

Tinor has the med room staked out, and brushing lightly over him reveals quiet content as he organises and puts away the medical supplies we'd bought for my woefully understocked medroom.

Terys and Miron are huddled together over a data pad in their room. They let me feel the hum of their conversation with Treis, who's on a datapand in his own room, all three of them a quiet, focused purple.

Torkal and Moros are in the common room, and Torkal sends me back his normal shadowy happiness and the flavor of the food in front of him a beat before Moros's hesitant welcome.

We work our way up, talking with the different orbital control stations until finally we're out of atmo and flying away from Coruscant.

Savit pouches in the coordinates for the Shola system, the hum of Hokkaitam's processors kicking up to crunch the numbers. There's a dinging sound when that's done, and the route shows up highlighted on the screen.

Atorm presses the intercom button and lets Hokkaitam make the announcement.

"Entering hyperspace in 10 . . . 9 . . . 8 . . . 7 . . . 6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1."

He pushes the lever forwards, and there's the familiar jolt as the stars streak outside the windows.

I let out a breath. We're free.

---

Footnotes:

0. The Kimana language. It's entirely mine and not very fleshed out beyond a few words.

1. Sith Language, referencing inquisitorhotpants on tumblr

2. They're a Hamadryas, for no particular reason.

3. Dai Bendu, a Star Wars Conglang for Jedi. I'm not using in quite the same context as the creators, but that's where I got the concept from. Refrencing: Heart Language by aroacejoot, ghostwriterofthemachine, loosingletters on AO3.

4. My best friend who fences says this makes sense.

5. Kimana equivalent to bitch. Comes from the sperm producing biological category, whose ejaculate is blue when not carrying sperm, who get stereotyped as always wanting to have sex.