"Come in," a melodic voice said and she walked in. "Why is it I always find you meditating Bariss?" The Mirialan's eyes shot open, "Aralia, I didn't know it was you, I assumed it was Master Luminara," the girl rose to her feet and the pair embraced. "Want to talk?" Bariss met her eyes understanding the message found in them and said, "sure thing," stepping outside they walked through the temple with no real path.
"I'm concerned about the Jedi's involvement in the war, Padawan's being forced to combat with Sith Assassins. The order turning into a military, for the Republic, just yesterday my Master and I tended to a grievously injured girl, the Padawan of Master Shaak Ti. She was barely alive by the time we were able to tend her wounds," there they were her worries voiced to one of the only people who would actually listen. "I think that we are supposed to be keepers of the peace not warriors, but once this war concludes it will be our job to keep the peace."
"But how do we do that without being warriors?" Her voice echoed with her concern, "I don't know Aralia, it seems neither of us has any real answers. What would your Master tell you?" She shrugged glancing at the Mirialan, "my Master would trust me to form my ideas. But we're also both healers so..." she trailed off as they rounded a corner and greeted the cheerful Nautolan Jedi, Master Fisto who asked, "Padawan Kryze would you please accompany me?" Stifling her surprise, she answered, "of course Master Fisto."
Exchanging a quick glance with Bariss she followed the Nautolan back down the hallway she had just traveled down, "is there something I can do for you, Master Fisto?" He smiled down at her, and she was filled with a warmth she only felt with a few members of the order. "I think it's best we keep things simple; you're being requested by the Senate to join the clone medics on the station orbiting Ord Cestus." Her stomach tightened, she hated the idea of answering to the Senate, and it clearly showed as Master Fisto added.
"Young one, keep in mind this is a request, Senator Amidala insisted it be such. She seems, quite fond of you," the knot in her gut loosened. Since the aftermath of the battle on Geonosis, she had become good friends with the senator from Naboo, and she seemed to trust her judgment of most of her fellow Senators. "I'll go just give me some time to collect my things Master Fisto, and I will meet you at the hanger." After receiving a nod and a smile she took off, her feet silent on the floor. She supposed it was time to leave the temple, for the first time since her trip to Illium, she would leave the temple and form her own ideas about what was going on in the galaxy.
The hanger doors towered in her vision as she walked in. The only other time she had come here, well with the exception of when she was a youngling and would play games with Ashoka. Was when she left for the Gathering, but her eyes instead fell on the Republic shuttle near the doors. This was the ship that would take her to the station, walking quickly to it she nodded to Master Fisto who was joined by two clones in brown painted armor as they stepped on board. "General Fisto we are ready to depart," she glanced up at the clone's helmet seeing the dark brown visor added on. "Good, we will leave at once." The clone looked down, motioning the other clone into the cockpit, "who's the youngling?"
Aralia couldn't help but wonder why the clone thought she was a youngling, after all, she wasn't that short, "the name's Aralia Kryze, and I am actually a Padawan thank you very much Commander." The clone's shoulders stiffened and she knew she'd guessed right. Sitting down in one of the seats she crossed her ankles then her arms looking straight into the clone's visor.
The ship lifted smoothly off the ground and she pulled her legs towards her chest looking out the top of the cockpit the city-planet shrank and stars speckled the sky. "Jumping to hyperspace now," the glittering sparks stretched into glowing white lines before all, she could see was the cloudy blue of hyperspace. Her fingers tapped out a simple melody on her knee, the tune soon coming from her, the hummed notes near silent in the noiseless shuttle. As time passed, she switched songs crossing her legs beneath herself, allowing the world to melt away.
What seemed like only a few moments later she felt a warm weight settle on her shoulder. Her eyes stretched open and she met the dark gaze of Master Fisto, "we'll be arriving at the station shortly Padawan." A lurch brought them out of hyperspace and immediately a wave of dizziness rushed over her. Closing her eyes again she began counting, "solus, t'ad, ehn, cuir." Her native tongue steadied her as the numbers passed and they docked at the station. "Rayshe'a, resol, e'tad, sh'ehn," the feeling passed and she looked up to see the Commander staring confusedly at her.
"Is something wrong Commander," she asked rising to her feet, "no sir, just wondering why a Jedi youn- Padawan knows Mandalorian." A knot of annoyance formed in her gut, "it's Mando'a and that is none of your concern. Now I believe I am here for more than silly questions, no?" She heard a small chuckle behind her, "Commander I think you should stop digging yourself into this hole, but Padawan why don't you tell him." Turning she smiled sweetly, "now where's the fun in that Master Fisto. After all, there's no way he could possibly know why I know Mando'a just like how you can still speak your people's tongue."
A spluttering noise of surprise was what she walked into the station to and a remark for the clone standing beside the entrance, "I don't think I've ever seen the Commander so surprised since the seppies ambushed us on our way to Dantooine." She smiled, "is that a compliment trooper,"
"Yes sir," she found herself rolling her eyes, "call me Aralia, sir is so formal, what's your name trooper." Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, it would not do to have this kind of stiffness between her and the clones. Not only would it be terribly annoying and awkward, but it would also interfere with her ability to communicate with those she was expected to heal. "Sev, sir," her footsteps were quick and light as she attempted to keep pace with the much taller man.