Eeth carefully studied the file about Padawan Lok Dar that Mace had sent him immediately after their call. According to his latest picture, Lok was nothing like Eeth; of course, Zabrak came in all shapes and sizes. Lok had light skin, short, brown hair, green eyes, a long nose and was rather thin. He had only just started sprouting horns and was not wearing tattoos, or at least not yet. He had been a padawan to Jerad for two years and seemed to have done fairly well. His records noted some disciplinary problems in the creche, but these had apparently stopped after Jerad had taken the boy on. Lok had done quite well in school, with slightly above-average grades in every subject, including some advanced classes. He had also been on a number of missions, mostly diplomatic affairs, including the conference that had got his master killed.

Next, Eeth called Master Neverin, the creche master currently in charge of the boy. She was a gentle, elderly human, and she seemed at her wit's end.
"I can get him to eat and drink, but that's about it," she said. "He doesn't talk, neither to me nor to the Council members. He talked a little to the soul healer, I think, but only because she threatened to stay until he did. He just lies on his bed and stares at the wall. I think he cries a lot, but never when I see him. I don't think he sleeps much. The soul healer says it would be good for him to leave the quarters he shared with his master, but I can't even convince him to leave his room."
"Alright," said Eeth. "Then I will just have to try and convince him, won't I?"

He thought for a while. Then he packed his gym bag and made his way to Lok's quarters. Master Neverin let him in and pointed him to Lok's room. It wouldn't have been hard to find even without her help; Lok's and Jerad's quarters had the exact same layout as Eeth's. Eeth just threw a brief look at the common room that was decorated with a number of unusual paintings. He realised that he had no clue how Jerad had spent the past forty years of his life; but he did not waste much time on such musings. Instead, he put his gym bag down and knocked on Lok's door. There was no reply. Neverin motioned for him to go in.

Eeth entered the room and closed the door behind himself. Lok was lying on his bed, his back turned to him, and gave no sign that he had noticed him.
"Good afternoon," said Eeth. "I am Jedi Master Eeth Koth. Would you pay me the courtesy to sit up and look at me?"
Lok briefly and almost imperceptibly shook his head.
"Go'way," he murmured.
"If you think I'm going to allow you to order me around, you are very much mistaken," Eeth said firmly. He pulled out Lok's desk chair, sat down and rested his elbows on his knees.
"I've known your master," he said matter-of-factly, "and I think he taught you more manners. Now stop this silliness and sit up."
The last bit was spoken in a tone of voice that made it very clear that this was an order and that Eeth expected Lok to obey. Lok seemed to realise this, too. After a brief pause, he rolled around and slowly sat up, but he refused to look Eeth in the face. Eeth could see that he had been crying a lot, and the shadows beneath his eyes showed that he had hardly slept.
"So, are you another one in the parade of prospective masters the Council has been sending to see me?" Lok said sullenly. "I'm not interested in all these blind dates, thank you very much."
"And I hardly think you're ready to take on a new master," Eeth retorted. "However, you need someone to take care of you and to help you through this time. Since you did not volunteer any names, the Council are doing their best to come up with someone."
"I don't need anyone," Lok said obstinately.
"Nonsense," Eeth replied brusquely. "Master Neverin cannot stay indefinitely, and even if she could, you need more than someone who makes you eat and drink occasionally. For a start, when have you last left these quarters?"
Lok gave him a scrutinising look. For the first time, he seemed to see Eeth properly.
"That is none of your business," he said, but it sounded a tad uncertain.
"And that," said Eeth very firmly, "is no way to talk to a superior Jedi who has asked you a question. When?"
Lok sighed.
"Not since... my master was..." he whispered, then broke off, ducking his head.
Very gently, Eeth said: "Refusing to say it out loud will not make it go away, you know. You haven't left your quarters since your master was incinerated?"
Very briefly, an image of nineteen-year-old Jerad welled up in him. Jerad as he had been in the mineral pools, strong and graceful; lying on his back, his lekku crossed upon his chest, his body going up in flames.
Lok gave a tiny, jerky nod, his eyes fixed on the floor.
"Right," said Eeth, rising from his chair. "Grab your gym bag and come."
Lok frowned. "Come where?"
Eeth snorted. "To the gym, obviously."
"But I don't want to go to the gym!" Lok protested. Apparently he realised how childish this sounded for his cheeks flushed a faint pink.
Eeth raised his eyebrows.
"I bet you haven't been able to pull that one off since the junior creche, if at all," he said pointedly. "You might not want it, but I assure you that you need it. And besides, I gave you an order."
At thirteen years of age, Lok was old enough to know that when a Jedi Master gave explicit orders, it was a good idea to do as one was told. He obeyed with a scowl on his face, but he obeyed. Creche Master Neverin gave them a very surprised look as Eeth and Lok exited the bedroom, Lok carrying his gym bag and Eeth picking up his.
"Take a break, Master Neverin," Eeth told her. "Look after your creche group if you like. I'll give you a call later."
With this, he escorted Lok out the door.