Chapter 1: Master

In the year 7949CRC (later known as 28BBY well after her death), a Cathar youngling spent her last night in the crèche. She was soon to be a Padawan. Technically she already was. The first time she'd met her Master, she'd only been 7 years old and had only interacted with him for all of 6 minutes before declaring that he would be her Master. At the time her declaration became true, she was only 11 years old but already had a thick and healthy golden coat of fur covering her. She was sure something was wrong with her. The other younglings spoke about worry surrounding their future Master. She knew that as a Jedi, worry and fear were emotions to keep in control. She knew she had to master her emotions, but she never understood why she hadn't struggled like her peers. She considered that she may be lying to herself or simply broken.

Midday, the human man came to collect his new student. At that time his hair was only a little over shoulder length but still in his normal ponytail. "Young Doryn, come." He was a wise man, knowing those were the only words needed. Doryn Ror was very set in her ways. Her people were passionate and fiercely loyal. Despite being felines, they thrived in tightly knit communities. In the girl, this had manifested as an unwavering loyalty to the ways of the Jedi and later an inexplicably strong bond to her Master. They walked side by side through the Coruscant temple. Distant conversation and the sounds of their shoes against the marble floor being the only sounds they heard for a while. She had yet to see many parts of the great temple. "You have no worry." Her Master made the observation. He'd been thinking about it and using his index finger and thumb to taper the end of his handlebar moustache as he did so. She understood that he wanted further explanation. She knew it was abnormal. "I know I ought to, Master Tassu, but I trust in the Force to guide me." She earned a nod and a thoughtful noise from her Master. Even she was unsure if what she had said was true. It was only a theory she'd had on why she was like this. She never was sure if he knew that it wasn't the entire truth or if it was just how exposed she felt with her newly cropped hair.

Nicanas Tassu spent 6 years training his Padawan. After their first year together, he allowed Doryn to move beyond form I. Both having green blades and similar mindsets, there were times that they became so in sync that it became difficult to see where one ended and the other began. With her Master having trained mostly in form III, she became very well acquainted with using it and working effectively against it. Though, she decided the path for her was form II. The perfection of the movements and footwork. The way it reflected the enemy's own power against them. It was truly the most beautiful form of lightsaber combat.

In 22BBY, she had been on a diplomatic mission with her Master. Unfortunately, she had been attacked while defending a senator who'd received death threats over a species equality in employment bill. It had gone from an ambush with blasters to her being beaten with thick bars of durasteel. Almost as if the attack was meant for her, either because she was a Jedi or because she was the only non-human working on security that day. Her Master had taken her back to the temple and left her in a tank to heal. The fur on her left shoulder had been seared so badly that the hair follicles were permanently damaged. It had only been a day after they had returned that 212 Jedi were collected and taken to Geonosis.

Her Master died that day on Geonosis. She never got to thank him and he never got to see his Padawan become a knight. There was no goodbye, just a sudden jolt. She had not been as connected to the Force as the others. It was an entity she could interact with but never felt truly a part of it. Doryn had been resting and recovering when she felt, in the Force, the death of her Master. The entity she had never been one with suddenly shut her out and punished her for her inability to play its game. She went from being a Padawan that was one with her Master to a 17 year old Masterless Padawan. She wasn't sure if her lack of grief was from the training her Master had given her or if it was the broken thing inside of her. One thing she did feel was alone. Her childhood companions were all deeply bonded with their Masters, not that she'd ever bonded with them much in their youngling days. All she had left was a wooden puzzle cube her Master had given her on her 13th birthday. A wooden puzzle that reminded her that the one person she had cared for saw her attachment as evil. He was always right, and it should've been her that died. In her anger she destroyed the last weakness she had.

She hadn't learnt until much later that the situation was even more dire than it had seemed before. The clone war had begun.