Eeth made Lok work out for a full ninety minutes, and he did not go easy on the boy. This was meant to be a punishment for his less than stellar behaviour, after all; and besides, it might actually do him some good since being cooped up in a small spaceship was rarely conducive to improving a restless teenager's mood. Eeth did join Lok in the workout because he considered it imperative to maintain his own physical condition. That, and he wanted to make a point, that point being that he was still stronger than Lok and well able to take him in hand. After ninety minutes of vigorous exercises, Eeth was sweating and feeling the strain on his muscles, but he was nowhere near his physiological limit. Lok, on the other hand, was. He was doubled over, hands on his thighs, panting.

Eeth opened a closet, took out a drink pack and tossed it to Lok. Lok only just managed to catch it before it hit the opposite wall.

„Y-You might have given me warning," he wheezed in a half-accusatory tone of voice.

„Why?" asked Eeth, unperturbed. „You do have Jedi reflexes; you did catch it. Drink it. It is a rehydrating solution. And take a hot shower; it will prevent your muscles from becoming too sore."

Lok snorted. „If you don't want my muscles to be sore, you need only listen to me when I tell you I've had enough," he ground out.

„If you want me to listen to you, lose the attitude first," Eeth snapped. He had had about enough of Lok's cheek and it showed in the glare that he levelled at his padawan. Lok made to reply, but then he caught the glare and seemed to think better of it - very wisely so, since Eeth strongly felt that he had been more than lenient enough for today.

Lok sullenly finished his drink and slouched off to take a shower. Since there was only one shower, Eeth contented himself with a wash and a fresh outfit and then went to find Lakhri and Flynt. They were both in the cockpit, with Lakhri quizzing Flynt on military terminology in Bocce.

When they next paused, Eeth said: „I will need to brief your padawan on the mission, Lakhri."

„Sure," said Lakhri. „Do you mind if I stay? I'd feel better if I had a clearer idea what I'm supposed to be protecting Lok from. Where is he, anyway?"

„Taking a shower," replied Eeth. „And sulking, I suppose. I have no idea what is the matter with him at the moment."
„Well, he's probably not too happy with having to stay on the ship," Lakhri pointed out. „And jealous of Flynt to boot."

„Yes, obviously he is," Eeth said, „but there is more to it. He has been frustrated and moody even before he heard the news of this mission. He is admitting it himself, but he has no idea what is causing his resentment."

„Adolescence?" asked Flynt.

„Probably so," said Eeth, „but I am not sure that is all there is to it. I asked him to discuss it with his soul healer once we are back. For now, we will just have to cope. And he will have to settle down, and fast. I have just about reached the end of my patience."

„Well, if even you have reached the end of your legendary patience, it must be very bad indeed," Lakhri quipped with a grin.

Eeth very ostensibly did not rise to that. He merely said: „Let us start with our mission briefing. Do I have your attention?"

Half an hour later, Lok slouched into the cockpit, his hair still moist from the shower and a rather sullen look on his face. Eeth was talking at that point, giving a concise resumé of the negotiations he had failed to bring to a successful outcome. He acknowledged Lok's presence with a nod and continued talking. Lok plopped into a seat and listened for a while. When Lakhri asked a question and Eeth answered, he rolled his eyes and faked suppressing a yawn. When Eeth went on to talk about the events that had occurred since his failure in the negotiations, Lok finally said out loud, right in the middle of Eeth's talk: "I'm hungry. Do we have anything to eat?"

Lakhri and Flynt exchanged a look that had "he must be suicidal" written all over it. Eeth, however, did not even appear to have heard. He calmly finished his explanation, then turned to Lok and said: "It is not dinnertime yet by a long shot. If you are hungry, get yourself an energy bar from the galley. And if you are bored, I can easily find something for you to do. How about writing one hundred times 'I will not interrupt my master while he is speaking'? That should keep you busy for a while."

"Ha ha, very funny," said Lok disparagingly, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet on the console. Lakhri and Flynt exchanged another knowing look as Eeth's eyes narrowed. He had not, in fact, been entirely serious about his proposal; he had been perfectly willing to drop it in exchange for a sincere apology. Giving him a flippant remark instead, however, had not been a good idea on Lok's part. As Lakhri knew by now, and Lok apparently did not, it was a surefire way of turning a half-hearted threat into a rather embarrassing and very real experience.

Eeth rummaged around in his robe for a moment and produced a data pad and stylus.

"Here," he said sternly, holding it out to Lok. "Get started."

Lok folded his arms over his chest. "You must be delusional if you think I'm going to write lines for you," he said crossly. "I'm thirteen, not seven, for Force's sake!"

At this point, Eeth was about ready to put him across his knee, audience and all, had it not been for Lakhri who put a restraining hand on Eeth's arm.

"Lok, I really think you've reached used up the amount of lenience that Eeth is going to grant you for today," he said solemnly. "And I'm speaking out of experience here. If I, as a padawan, had been as disrespectful as you are being, I would have found myself starting at the floor long ago. Eeth is actually being tolerant with you, but that tolerance is only going to last for so long. Your only choice at this point is to accept the data pad and start writing or to receive a sore bottom and then start writing. We both know that's not much of a choice to make. Being thirteen, not seven, you are probably able to figure that out for yourself. C'mon. Just do what your master told you."

Lok look at Lakhri, then at Eeth who had put on as stern a face as he could muster, which was really saying something, and who was still holding out the data pad. Scowling, he snatched the data pad, rose and turned to leave.

"I expect the lines to be written by dinnertime," said Eeth coolly.

"Yes," ground out Lok, without looking at him, and stomped off.

"You know," Lakhri remarked mildly, "you would have spanked me several times over if I had dared treat you like that."

Eeth was silent for a moment. Then he said: "Yes. I was sometimes too harsh with you. And maybe I am being too lenient with Lok. I am taking into account the mitigating circumstances. But if he has not cooled down by the time he has finished his lines and starts talking to me with a minimum of respect, he will be in for quite a rude awakening after all."

"D'you think he's pushing you?" asked Lakhri. "I mean, all this rudeness is a bit over the top. It's hardly unintentional."

Eeth raised his eyebrows. "If he is pushing for a reaction," he said quite simply, "I will not disappoint him."

Lakhri rolled his eyes. "As if we'd ever expect you to do that," he said, which had Flynt chuckle. More seriously, he added: "Ordinarily, I'd tell you to go easy on him. But I'm not entirely sure that would be sound advice."

Eeth regarded him thoughtfully for a long moment. "Ordinarily," he finally said, "I would have put him across my knees long ago. But I was not entirely sure that would be the right approach either."

"Well," said Flynt, "I just hope for his sake he settles down, or we will all find out."

"So do I," said Eeth quietly. "Now. Did you have any questions about last month's insurgency?"

When they finished up three hours later, close to dinnertime, Lok had not reappeared. Nor was he in the galley.

"You go look after your padawan," Lakhri told Eeth. "Flynt and I will take care of dinner."

"Thank you," said Eeth and went to look for Lok. His padawan had raised his shields tightly, but Eeth could tell that he was not in their small sleeping quarters. He finally found Lok in the same cargo hold that they had had their workout in. After all, there were not that many hiding places on the ship large enough for a thirteen-year-old Zabrak.

Lok was lying on his belly on the floor, the data pad in front of him, the stylus in hand, but he was not currently writing. Nor did he at all react to Eeth's entry.

"Have you not finished yet?" asked Eeth neutrally. One hundred lines really should not have taken more than an hour or two, especially since he knew that Lok was not a particularly slow writer.

"Nope," Lok replied curtly. And nothing more.

"How many have you completed?" Eeth inquired, a tad more sternly.

Lok rolled around, sat up and shrugged. "No idea, I didn't count," he said flippantly. "What's it matter to you?"

"It matters because I told you to be finished by dinnertime, and that is in ten minutes," Eeth snapped. "Give me the data pad."

Lok hesitated for a second, but seemed to come to the conclusion that outright disobedience was probably not in his best interest. He handed the data pad to Eeth very casually, but the casualness was a bit too demonstrative to be convincing.

Eeth scanned the pad briefly. Then he counted, his eyes narrowing.

Lok, in the meanwhile, stood up and stretched.

"I'm going to go and see what's for dinner," he informed Eeth and made to leave the room. He did not make it very far, though, before a hand snatched the back of his shirt and pulled him back.

"You are not going to walk out on me," Eeth informed him in a voice of tightly controlled fury. "I have tolerated altogether too much disrespect from you. It stops here and now." He pocketed the data pad and dragged Lok to the side of the room where a crate was standing.

"Hey!" Lok protested, trying to wriggle free. "Lemme go! I was going to finish the lines, I was just…"

"Too late," Eeth cut him short. "You took three hours to write no more twenty-seven lines. You know exactly that this was not what I expected of you. And that is hardly my only complaint about your behaviour today."

He sat down on the crate and snapped: "Bare your bottom and get over my lap. Now. If it takes you longer than ten seconds, I will add a dozen with my belt. And there will be no need for talking."

Lok looked at him with wide eyes, apparently debating whether to throw a tantrum or obey without question; but in do-or-die situations like these, as Eeth had already observed, Jerad's training usually kicked in. And thus, ten seconds later, Lok was lying across his lap, his bottom bared, resentment radiating off him. Eeth steeled himself against any feelings of regret or pity he might have, however; he had tried leniency, after all, and it clearly did not work for Lok.

"This is far overdue," he said grimly, bringing his hand down in a very hard swat. He did not usually take his paddle on missions, but that was not a problem because if he really wanted to, he could make his hand hurt just as much, it just took a little more effort. Right now, he definitely wanted to. Lok, despite the high tolerance for pain that was part of his Zabrak heritage, flinched and hissed. Eeth swatted him a second time.

"Stop it, for fuck's sake!" Lok ground out, trying unsuccessfully to wriggle away. This did nothing to impress Eeth.

"You will not curse, nor will you try to order me around," he barked. His third swat caught the undercurve of Lok's bottom and had the boy briefly drum his toes on the floor. Eeth was silent for a moment, focussing on settling into a rhythm. And then, he started to lecture. That was fairly uncharacteristic; normally, he focussed on dealing out a memorable spanking and did the talking afterwards. But in this case, he really thought there were a few things that Lok needed to learn, and since he had not proved to be very receptive before, maybe being in this position would finally make him listen.

"No amount of unhappiness, frustration or annoyance gives you the right to talk back to me, interrupt me or give me cheek," he informed Lok while meting out slow, hard swats at a steady pace. "When I tell you to lose the attitude, I mean it. When you find it impossible to deal with your negative emotions, you ask for help. You do not take it out on me. Am. I. Making. Myself. Clear?"

He punctuated these last words with particularly enthusiastic swats to the tops of Lok's thighs.

"Owwwww!" Lok howled in reply, kicking and thrashing around on Eeth's lap. He did not reply to Eeth's question, though, although he was definitely not beyond listening or expressing his acceptance.

"Not the answer I was looking for," Eeth said brusquely and continued to devote his attention to Lok's thighs. "The defiance stops here. I expect you to answer my questions respectfully. You certainly have no right to walk out on me. I will not tolerate any of that nonsense, and in the future, I will be a lot quicker to provide you with consequences than I have been today. Am I getting through to you at all?"

He moved the swats back to the undercurve of Lok's bottom, but he'd doubt that his padawan would appreciate the difference. The whole area was turning a dark red, and Lok was obviously fighting back tears.

"Y-yes, master," he choked out. "S-sorry. P-please stop."

Eeth sensed that the apology was entirely insincere; a mere strategy on Lok's part to stop the spanking and continue nursing his resentment. Besides, he was not in the habit of stopping a spanking just because his padawan asked him to.

"No, definitely not," he said calmly and continued at the same, steady pace. Lok tried to tough it out for a while longer, but finally started to yelp, to yell and finally to wail. And still, Eeth did not stop although his right arms was feeling the exertion by now. It was probably the hardest and longest handspanking he had ever dealt out, and Lok seemed to agree, judging from his reaction. Only when the boy was reduced to lying limply across his lap and sobbing did Eeth decide that enough was enough. If this did not convince Lok that pulling an attitude was not in his best interest, then Eeth had no idea what would. He was under no illusion that a spanking would magically cure all kinds of deeper, underlying issues, but right now, for the duration of this mission, he was more than happy to settle for compliance and respectful behaviour.

He lightly rubbed Lok's back without speaking. It took fairly long for the crying to subside, but then, it had been a fairly long spanking. Finally, Lok drew a deep, shuddering breath, wiped across his face with his sleeve and pushed himself up, wincing.

"What did you have to whale on me like that for?" he asked, but it did not sound all that reproachful. Mostly, it sounded weary.

Eeth raised his eyebrows. He produced a handkerchief from his pocket, handed it to Lok and said: "As far as I remember, I was rather explicit about the reasons for this spanking. Need I really answer this question?"

Lok blow his nose and sighed. "No," he conceded, his voice hoarse from crying. "I'm sorry. I know I was being a pain in the ass."

"So you were," said Eeth solemnly. "Any idea why?"

Lok shook his head mutely.

"Then we will meditate on it tonight," said Eeth. "And I expect your best effort. As for the rest of this mission, whether you will like it or not, you will behave because I will not tolerate anything else. We simply cannot afford needless diversions. Is that clear?"

Lok nodded. "Yes, master," he said quietly. He gingerly reached down to pull up his pants, but before he did, he have Eeth a questioning look. Eeth nodded at him to proceed. Lok did so, but very slowly and cautiously; Eeth had not gone easy on him.

As he turned to leave, Eeth put a hand on his shoulder.

"Lok?" he said.

Lok glanced back at him. "Yes?" he asked politely.

"Come here," said Eeth gently and pulled him into a hug. For a second, it felt as if Lok was resisting the embrace, but then he sank into it and clung to his master with all his might.

Somewhere from the galley, they heard Lakhri yell that dinner was ready; but that could wait.