(Naboo System, 11.5 Hours Later)
I had just woken up from a dream I could only remember a couple tiny tidbits of, and finished the necessary morning rituals, when I felt Seraph revert to real space for the third and final time. Emerging from the port sleeping compartment onto the walkway that lead fore to the operations compartment, or aft to my tiny work-space just fore of the access to the (technological) Class 1.5 hyper-drive installed as a backup by the Langhesi, I could already hear Artoo's shrill beeps, whirs, and warbles of protest before the operations compartment door had even begun opening. Now, I watched as the feisty astromech rolled speedily in my direction, while I prepared a pot of coffee in the microscopic kitchenette recessed into the ship's starboard bulkhead just aft of the centered operations compartment door. Once he rolled to a stop beside me with a final warble of distress, I turned to listen attentively to a more complete summary of the droid's complaints, but when he finally wound down, my expression remained unruffled.
"There's nothing to be concerned about, Artoo. Now that we've left hyper-space, Seraph is simply heading for the Naboo System's meager asteroid field because she needs to eat. She's more than capable of avoiding any hazards to navigation while collecting her meal, and she won't do anything that would endanger us, in any case. I realize a ship that doesn't always go where your navigation inputs direct is the stuff of astromech nightmares, but the sooner you accept that she's as free to do her thing as you are, the happier you're going to be" I replied in a sympathetic yet firm tone.
Several more rapid-fire statements were made in Binary, but I remained resolute. "If Seraph's free-ranging bothers you so much, why don't you distract yourself by going ahead and getting acquainted with IG-1? I try to keep him engaged when I can, but my duties don't always permit being trailed by a droid of his design. I'm hoping this mission will provide him with enough stimulation that he'll stop powering down when no one is actively interacting with him."
When the round-topped blue and white droid evinced at least some interest in my suggestion, I pointed aft and finished with "You'll find him in sentry-mode right in front of the access to the back up hyper-drive all the way aft. He's quite observant, so he picked up on the fact his proximity was making my new apprentice uneasy and decided to keep his distance for now. He wants to let her get used to being followed about by him a bit at a time. Give IG-1 a chance, and I think the idea of a droid team-up will grow on you."
A couple of dubious and rather snarky sounds were fired my way as the droid rolled of aft, but my attention had already drifted back to the two snippets I remembered from my dream.
First, I was floating in complete darkness, when a dozen brilliant white lines sprung into being to form a cube that hung in the blackness before me. The cube's interior simply seemed only to consist of the omnipresent empty blackness, but within the black, there were two bright white orbs. One of the spheres was a bit larger larger and somewhat brighter than the other, yet both zipped about the interior of their cube-cage with the same frenetic intensity as they sought to escape the confines of their cage.
Second, I had the sense that some time had passed, and now the cube was being batted and rolled about by some invisible force, or maybe just something as black as the surrounding darkness. Almost as if it were one of the dice in a game of chance. The pair of spheres trapped within the dice-cube seemed to dim for a moment each time a tumble of their prison threw them into one of the invisible walls. Their previous level of illumination would return a moment or two after an impact, but every several impacts seemed to permanently cost the two lights a tiny portion of their brilliance.
I thought I remembered trying to reach out and stop the cube from tumbling about a fraction of a second before I'd awakened, but couldn't be sure I hadn't imagined that part as a reaction to a dream that was unusually intense for being simplistic to the point of the absurd. Imagined or not, I remembered nothing that might have resulted from that desire to reach out. Nothing but the vaguest sort of sense, akin in the vaguest sort of way to being aware that the existence of a vid you'd been watching didn't cease simply because you stopped watching it.
"Maybe one or both lights escaped the cube, and that lead to other movements in the darkness?" I silently questioned myself. Testing the idea to see if it rang true in memory, or was simply a guess my mind had conjured to try and fill in the lost time between the two dream-fragments. The thought didn't seem wrong, per se, but neither did it jog loose anything new, or lead to any elaborations on what little I did recall. All I was one hundred percent sure about was this had been no simple figment of REM sleep. It meant something, somehow, somewhen, but I hadn't the foggiest idea what.
"Is that fresh coffee I smell?" I looked up from being so completely lost in thought I'd nearly missed Padme's question. Noticing the attractive young woman seemed to be anticipating the possibility of trouble today, because a familiar skintight white jumpsuit was gracing her figure. There was no holstered blaster as yet, but the thin gray utility belt she was wearing already had a number of small pouches affixed, and there was definitely still room at either hip.
"Anakin? Coffee?" She prompted gently when I didn't respond after a couple seconds. I felt my cheeks warm, but managed to keep my voice from quavering, as I finally replied "Oh, ahh, how do you take it?"
The small smile she gave me as she answered "Milk and sugar, please" could have meant anything, but I felt how pleased she was by this chink in my composure as surely as if the feeling had been my own. The knowledge helped me recover my balance as I prepared the cup as she'd requested, so by the time I handed it to her, I had an actual response in mind.
"I take it from your choice of clothing that you arrived at the same conclusion I did. That the Queen's going to send you to find out what the trouble with the Gungans is after five minutes of briefing or less, I mean." It seemed the most likely eventuality, and Padme's immediate nod confirmed we were thinking along similar lines.
"The Gungans are a people with a deep respect for the past, and a corresponding tendency to venerate the leaders among them whose careers in their completed totality proved them to be effective servants of the common good. Boss Nass, as greatly esteemed as he was while serving as the head of the Gungan High Council, was never so well-loved and respected as he's become since retiring with his record full of achievements and successes. They tend to accord me a certain amount of respect, along similar lines. Which is certainly useful at times like these" Padme explained in a serious tone that did a good job of conveying her respect for the neighbors and erstwhile allies of the Naboo.
"Wasn't Queen Neeyutnee's coronation only a couple of months ago? That doesn't seem like enough time to complete the transfer of power, and get up to speed on the unresolved developments from the end of her predecessor's term. Let alone establish a dialog of her own with Boss Lyonie" I remarked in what I thought was a fairly astute manner. The there-and-gone flash of worried concern that crossed Padme's face as she heard my assessment seeming to vindicate my observation.
"Her Majesty's coronation was four days prior to the Gungans' Festival of Warriors. Which was itself a little more than ten weeks ago." Padme confirmed, paused for a moment as if choosing her words with care, then continued loyally "That could have had something to do with the Queen asking me to act as her personal representative for the duration of the festivities, or it could simply have been a result of the state of flux that always grips the Diplomatic Corps in the wake of a royal election."
I considered what she'd said for a moment, then decided there was as yet no upside to voicing the concerns I'd had since learning the Queen had requested her immediate return to Naboo. The Gungans recalling their ambassador without explanation was disconcerting, even troubling, but I knew that wasn't enough to convince the woman in front of me that her people's staunchest allies for more than a decade might now be considering the possibility they should be backing a different pod-racer.
There was a not so brief lull in the conversation, as our joint speculation about a problem we knew too little about came to an end. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, exactly, but I wasn't sorry when Padme ended it to ask "Do you have some idea of our ETA off-hand, Anakin? I suppose you can sense how anxious I am to return home and find out what the situation is, and what I can do to help."
The question brought a fond smile to my lips, as I replied with a touch of pride in my girl "We've already arrived, so as soon as Seraph finishes taking on the few hundred kilograms of minerals from your asteroid field that she needs to refuel and rearm, we can comm the Theed spaceport for a descent vector."
My answer brought a look of shocked surprise to my charge's lovely features. "What do you mean we're already here? That's impossible!" Padme sputtered on a moment or two longer, until my unwavering certainty forced her to accept the truth.
"Seraph's the offspring of a bio-technology several decades more advanced than anything known to the Republic, Padme. It's hard to say exactly how fast she really is, because I'm understandably reluctant to push her to her absolute limits, but my girl makes Class point-five speed with no trouble at all" I explained with a satisfied grin. Delighted to be bragging about my blazing angel to an appreciative audience.
Recovering from her moment of stunned disbelief, Padme seemed to glean some sense of my love for and pride in Seraph. Her ensuing smile was obviously appreciative, as she replied with genuine feeling "That's incredible, Anakin. Thank you for getting us here so quickly. It means a great deal to me, because as worried as I am about what's happening here at home, I am genuinely afraid of what the Senate may do when the Extraordinary Session convenes. You've given me hope that the situation here might be resolved in time for me to return to Coruscant and help provide a counterbalance to those screaming for blood."
Thankfully, I was spared the discomfort of either pointing out how futile I thought such action would be at this point, or getting into my own fears concerning what expectations the Senate might now have of the Jedi, by the sound of a loud yawn and much lighter tread approaching. Padme turned in Ahsoka's direction and offered a warm greeting as she plodded into the small rectangular kitchenette, but I merely offered my Padawan a small smile.
Fixing me with a plaintive look that bordered on a glare, my apprentice took a couple minutes to stretch and thoroughly massage each of her limbs, then asked in a discontented tone "Intensive stretching exercises, two hours of Moving Meditation, plus tripling my daily calisthenics? How am I supposed to keep up a regimen like this, and, well, learn anything?" "Master" she remembered to offer belatedly. Still bent forward and massaging her legs.
Eyeing the long, translucent adhesive patches covering the major muscle groups of arms left bare by her rust-covered crop-top, I shook my head with a sigh, then replied "You're lucky you're my Padawan and not Dark Woman's, little one. She insisted that burning and aching muscles would push me to increase my command of the healing trance, so there wasn't any coddling like bact-aid patches from her. Master Dark Woman would have also contended 'If you have the energy to complain, you have the energy for a ten-click run.' Which reminds me, I need to get a treadmill installed in your quarters."
Becoming more serious in the face of her disbelieving stare, my tone was gentle yet uncompromising, as I explained "Ahsoka, you need to learn to make your body a conduit for the Living Force, as the Temple had begun training you to make of your mind. In order to do that, you have to develop the same intimate awareness of your physical form that you've begun working towards mentally via meditation and the various cognitive exercises. That's one reason for all the exercises and Moving Meditation. Assuming you continue to give the physical regimen your best effort, your endurance will increase significantly. That's the other reason, because I can't teach you more of Form IV until your stamina improves. Ataru is simply a suicide-pact as convoluted as it is protracted, without exceptional physical resources to draw upon."
Ahsoka straightened up, faced me, then asked in a manner that was more curious than challenging this time. "How am I supposed to know when I've improved enough, then?"
"When you can complete the first and second of Master Faalo's Cadences, and you can still maintain proper Form while sparring with me for an hour immediately afterwards" I replied promptly, and without the slightest give. "I'll be happy to spar with you, and help you polish what you've already learned in the interim, but no new velocities until you've demonstrated you're ready to progress."
Shoulders slumping a little in disappointment, my Padawan next gave me a speculative look, then asked in an intent tone "Is it true what they say, Master?"
"I don't know, what did they say this time, Ahsoka? It's rather difficult to keep up with everything the All-Knowing They chooses to pass on to we mere mortals, after all" I replied in an even tone. Taking a drink of my coffee, as I waited to be entertained by the latest produce from the gossip-farm.
Not encouraged by my sarcastic response, and the best inscrutable demeanor I could conjure on the spot, Ahsoka's answer was delivered in a huff "I knew it had to be a bunch of bantha pudu! They said you were the youngest Jedi to ever complete the Cadences, Master."
I shook my head, sighed, then wryly observed "Throughout the course of your life, Padawan, you'll discover that even when the gossips among us aren't simply making things up, they often distort the truth in dramatic fashion, or omit critical details that generally sets the gossip they're peddling at odds with reality. At least to some extent."
I paused, took in her look of disappointment, then concluded "If you really must know, I am, a few months past my twentieth life-day, merely the youngest Jedi in a generation to successfully complete the First through Fourth of Master Faalo's Cadences in an unbroken sequence. Master Windu was, however, barely nineteen when he did so as the youngest Jedi of his generation, and he did it without the benefit of Matukai training. There's also Master Antana, who at three months shy of her twentieth life-day, accomplished the same feat. If you're looking for a master of the lightsaber to idolize and emulate, I can suggest no better candidate from this millennium than one of them."
Noticing her look of surprise, as well as Padme's expression of curiosity, I took the almost imperceptible jolt of Seraph coming to a sudden stop for the blessing it was. Quickly taking the opportunity to explain "It appears that Seraph's had her fill from the asteroid field, so if you ladies will please excuse me, I need to see about getting us back underway."
Sketching a shallow bow, I did my best to play off how uncomfortable I'd become with the recent turn in the conversation, then glided away fore at the best speed I could manage without giving the impression I was fleeing.
-------
(Naboo, Theed, The Royal Palace, 90 minutes later)
The meeting with Queen Neeyutnee had happened just as quickly, and was concluded just as swiftly, as I'd anticipated. No sooner had we touched down in the portion of the Royal Spaceport reserved for vessels with royal or diplomatic credentials, than a pair of RNSF officers had appeared as we were stepping off of Seraph's landing-ramp. The uniformed pair had been all terse professionalism while conveying the Queen's request that we attend her, but I'd been able to sense the apprehension each man concealed like a mournful whisper echoing with every step each took in leading us through the palace's interior. The servants and functionaries we'd passed had seemed more uncertain than scared, but I'd taken that more as a product of faith in their monarch, rather than an accurate reading of the situation. The actual audience consisted of just the three of us, (the RNSF having been very polite yet firm in requesting IG-1 remain outside) the queen, and a tense Captain Panaka. Once the meeting began, it hadn't taken long at all for Her Majesty to convey what she knew, after thanking Padme sincerely for arriving so quickly.
The Queen's account had amounted to this: Four days earlier, during a weekly holo-comm call with the Naboo ambassador to the Gungan High Council in Gunga City, the Queen had been told about a new advisor of Boss Lyonie's. An older, purple-skinned Otolla Gungan the ambassador had never seen before, but one that had immediately acquired his attention due to the Gungan's sudden prominence. After noticing the indecisive manner which had seemed to grip Boss Lyonie at every turn since this advisor's appearance, Ambassador Kirneka had sought a private audience with the Gungan leader. Only to find his "private" audience attended by the still-unnamed advisor in question. Pressing the point, the Ambassador had asked to speak with Lyonie privately. It was his opinion the Boss had been about to grant the request, when the anonymous advisor had loudly cleared his throat. A change as sudden as it was profound had then overcome Lyonie. Leading not only to a peremptory refusal of the Ambassador's request, but his angry dismissal of Kirneka, with several harsh words besides.
This had been the point when Kirneka had decided to apprise his own monarch of these developments during their scheduled call. He hadn't gotten any further than providing this brief outline of the then previous evening's events, however, when Gungan soldiers had burst into his chamber. The holo-comm call had immediately been terminated, and it had taken more than a day for the Queen to get a straight answer as to what was going on. Apparently, Ambassador Kirneka had been detained for suspicion of espionage, and it had taken several tense conversations with the Rep Council to convince them to overrule Boss Lyonie, who was insisting Kirneka be tried as a spy, and uphold their diplomatic obligations. The Ambassador had been subsequently ejected from Gunga City, albeit with more than one unofficial apology from emissaries of the other various Gungan Bosses. When debriefed as soon as he'd arrived in Theed almost a day later, he'd described a Gungan capitol that was in a complete uproar. Confusion had been obvious among the citizenry, but as the flitter Kirneka had been loaded into made a completely unnecessary circuit of the capitol before beginning it's ascent, he'd seen an extremely obvious mustering of the Gungan Grand Army already well underway.
Afterwards, a day and a half ago. Queen Neeyutnee had requested the presence of Ambassador Binks the moment her meeting with Kirneka concluded. Only to be informed by an extremely apologetic functionary at the Gungan Embassy that Ambassador Binks was otherwise engaged. Hints had been dropped very obviously in the language of diplomacy that the Embassy was presently paralyzed by conflicting imperatives arriving continuously from the capitol. The Queen had thought it as worrying as it was telling, that the veteran diplomats had been willing to even so obliquely express their disapproval of what was transpiring in Otoh Gunga, but the lack of a Gungan point of contact had left her government in the extremely difficult position of wondering just what their militarily powerful neighbors' intentions now were.
Finally, a little more than eighteen hours later, Ambassador Binks had appeared unannounced in apparent answer to the Queen's request. He'd been effusively, passionately apologetic about the "Bigsa Bad Movings at'the home", but regrettably firm in communicating the fact he'd been ordered to close out the Embassy, and oversee the return of it's diplomatic staff to the Gungan capitol. All while offering absolutely no explanation for these actions. It had been the Queen's opinion that the brief editorializing the Gungan Ambassador had engaged in had been due to his own misgivings and private disagreement with whatever was happening, but she hadn't been able to convince him to break his silence any further than he already had. Within six hours, the entirety of the Embassy staff had vanished wordlessly beneath the surface of Lake Paonga. Almost all with much furtive glancing about, and uniformly worried or distressed body language according to RNSF observers.
It had been after Jar Jar's appearance, and before the Gungan Embassy staff had actually begun to move out, that the Queen had reached out to Padme. Learning of the attack on Coruscant, and recognizing the distances involved, she'd nearly despaired of availing herself of the Senator's services as a diplomatic envoy universally respected by the Gungans. When she'd learned the mustering of the Gungan Grand Army had now reached levels unseen since the Invasion only a couple hours before our arrival, things had grown understandably tense. Now, with Padme's unexpectedly quick arrival, the hope seemed to be the Gungan High Council would meet with the extremely respected Senator, even if Boss Lyonie decided to object. For the length of the audience, it went unsaid that Queen Neeyutnee and the Diplomatic Corps were growing convinced that Boss Lyonie's apparent belligerence might well be the result of his having taken leave of his senses.
-------
I held my peace, and didn't offer an opinion until Padme, Ahsoka, IG-1, and I had returned to Seraph. Since the city of Moenia was large enough to have it's own spaceport, it was far, far quicker to make an out-atmosphere hop and another descent, than it was to take an airspeeder several hundred miles to the edge of the Lianorm Swamp. I told myself it was this fact, and not my desire to avoid leaving the bio-ship unattended in a distant city that influenced my travel-plans.
Swiveling my chair to face Padme once I had our descent vector and could allow Artoo (despite a few snarky complaints in Binary) to work with Seraph on the landing, I observed in a tone I hoped conveyed my complete certainty "I spent a significant amount of time in Boss Lyonie's presence, after the capture of Vindi. Since Dark Woman was fielding nearly all the many questions asked by the Representatives of the Gungan Council, I had nothing to do but stand at parade rest, and, well, read the various Reps with my empathic gift. I would be willing to wager all three of our lives that that particular Gungan is morally incapable of sending Gungans to die in a war of aggression. Not of his own volition, or even while suffering from the sorts of instability that could pass unnoticed by those who know Lyonie well. Everything we heard from Queen Neeyutnee and Captain Panaka seems to point to his being in the grip of some all-consuming paranoia, but I simply can't reconcile the memory of the Gungan leader I met with the idea he's become a thrall of fear and suspicion."
"Neither can I, and not simply due to my assessment of his character. His strengths, like many Gungans, simply don't include any aptitude for nuanced, continuing duplicity. Oh, Boss Lyonie has an excellent sabacc-face, and he can hold important information back with ease, but pretending a strong emotion he isn't feeling is very much beyond him. I am so certain he was genuinely delighted to see evidence during the Festival of Warriors that the alliance between our peoples continued to grow, that I'd stake the welfare of my people on it. No leader goes from endorsing friendly foreign relations with a primary trading partner deeply involved in their colonization program, to contemplating a military campaign against said ally. Not in sixty days, at any rate." Padme replied, equally convinced there was something glaringly amiss here.
"Seems strange, all of this happening, just as the Separatists attack Coruscant" Ahsoka offered suddenly. I caught her gauging my reaction to her entry into the conversation, so I smiled and nodded encouragingly.
"More than a little strange" I agreed. Injecting a deliberate note of approval into my voice. "Noticing discrepancies in individual behavior, as the Senator and I have pointed out, or oddities of timing too pronounced to dismiss as coincidence, like you just did, are examples of two of the three most significant factors in ascertaining the truth behind a situation. Motive, Method, and Means, as they're known more generally. If you can determine the motive behind an action, identify the method which the group or individual intends to use in carrying out that action, and discover the means available to facilitate the chosen method, you've generally got what you need to unravel the mystery at hand" I continued in an encouraging manner. Seeing and seizing the teaching moment that had presented itself.
Appearing to consider my explanation at length, Ahsoka finally responded in an initially uncertain manner that grew more and more animated as she continued to talk. "OK, Master, if you and Senator Amidala agree that the actions we're seeing don't fit the motives of Boss Lyonie, then it sounds like the motive belongs to someone else. What about this unnamed advisor? Everything seemed to go wrong when he showed up. Could he have a motive to make the alliance between the Gungans and Naboo fall apart? If breaking the alliance is his Motive, then getting the Gungans to attack the Naboo would be his Method, and that would make convincing Boss Lyonie to order such an attack the Means of carrying out his Method, right?"
I looked at Padme, who slowly nodded, then more decisively asserted "Coercion is as good a theory as any I've considered. Even if it seems impossible to me that Lyonie would go along with any plan with a very obvious price-tag in Gungan lives. Maybe that explains his erratic behavior?"
Seraph touched down with a thump so gentle it could hardly be felt. I checked habitually for any sign of damage due to the landing, as I considered my response.
"It's a reasonable theory" I eventually conceded with a frown. "Excellent practical application in constructing it, apprentice. Your proposal that the motive may not belong to Lyonie is possible, but it doesn't try to address what the actual motive might be. That doesn't mean you're wrong, necessarily, but it's something to consider. Why would this mysterious advisor desire such a conflict?" I had an idea about that, of course, but this was at the moment a teaching exercise.
We'd all tromped down the landing pad by this point, so there was a lull in the conversation as we tried to gain our bearings. Owing to the fact we'd be heading underwater, and due to our need to keep Seraph mobile, Artoo had elected to stay behind. Which left the four of us hurrying out of the spaceport's confines. Continuing our attempt to work out where anything was in the omnipresent fog, with Padme doing her best to guide our group as the only one who'd been here before.
Tall, surprisingly attractive structures loomed out at us from the thick mist enhancing the eerie gloom that seemed part and parcel of the city. Most of these buildings were painted bright, vibrant colors, or bore astonishingly detailed murals consisting primarily of natural scenes. Where paint or artwork hadn't been enough to satisfy the owners, there were window-frames consisting of crushed semiprecious stones, elaborate balcony display, and most of the doorways we passed were flanked by pairs of identical, lifelike statuary. Where the murals were primarily composed of landscapes and various combinations of flora, most of the statues were depictions of animals from all around the galaxy. I was genuinely impressed when we walked past what I guessed was a high-ticket bar, because of the pair of life-sized Wyyyschokk sculptures bookending the white and red double-doors of the tavern. Colored perfectly true to life, each created the illusion they were rearing and ready to cast webs or spit poison from their great parted mandibles.
Noticing my attention, Ahsoka asked with some curiosity "Is there something significant about those spider statues, Master?"
Nodding, I allowed a bit of my enthusiasm for the subject to enter my voice, as I answered "No one has ever successfully captured a wyyyschokk with a holo-camera, and the predators destroy any droids sent to observe them in seconds. The only way the artist could have gained the knowledge required to create those sculptures was by going to Kashyyyk, and not only surviving a trip into the shadowlands, but managing to escape the wyyyschokk themselves. They tend to hunt in groups, they're as smart as any sapient being, the spiders are deadly poisonous, and capable of throwing their spun webs to entangle potential prey. Which they'll stalk for kilometers, as they wait for a moment of perfect vulnerability. It took considerable courage and commitment on the artist's part to create something that enriches as much as it impresses. That's worthy of respect."
"My sister Callista made those. Just like she made the Katarns climbing the tree-pillars outside Moenia First Regional Bank. She even created the full-size sculpture of a Star Dragon in the center of Inspiration Park." A thin, reedy voice proudly proclaimed from somewhere in the mist above us. It took me a split-second to get a fix on the speaker's position, but by then he was already in motion. Leaping down from the roof of the two-story tavern, he tucked into a somersault on his way down, then rolled as he made contact with the earth. Coming to his feat a little more than two meters away from us, with the adroitness of any older Jedi Padawan.
Straightening to his full, one point nine meter height, the pale blue skinned young man tilted his inverted teardrop-shaped head to regard me quizzically with his flaring ember colored eyes. His elongated torso leading to limbs as long as they were slender. Taken all together, they were the lines of a runner or gymnast taken to an extreme which would have been caricature in a human being. Watching the alien watch me, I noted the way the four bright orange braids laying across his head in a + shape twitched with the small, quickly occurring muscle tics in his head and neck. Guessing it was a sign of anxiety exhibited by his species, because that was definitely one of the stronger emotions I sensed in him.
"You're a Terrelian Jango Jumper! I read about your people in the Temple. You can really jump like that without the Force?" Ahsoka excitedly exclaimed. Not stopping in her enthusiasm to consider whether or not her question might be considered invasive. I worried momentarily that the newcomer might really take offense. Not because of his species, despite generalizations of his people making Terrelians out to be impulsive and passionate, but due to his age and gender. Owing to the differences in species, I couldn't assign an exact human-equivalent age, but I was certain he was no older than early adolescence. The entire galaxy knew there was nothing more impulsive and quick to anger than a young teen, with that going double for a young male teen.
Looking more bemused than anything, however, the unnamed young man simply nodded in response to my Padawan's question, then returned his attention to me. "You said you respect my sister's work. If you respect her, then you should be willing to help her. That's what Jedi are supposed to do, right?" The question that capped what amounted to the most assertive verbal lunge the teen could manage ended in a quavering tone. The tic that jerked his head slightly picking up speed as his voice broke.
"Maybe you should start by telling us your name, and why you think your sister needs help from a Jedi" I replied almost without thinking. It was strange, because I hadn't really decided per se to offer that suggestion. It was one of a few responses I'd considered, but something had nudged me to choose those words in particular.
When the young Terrelian opened his mouth to answer, I found myself thinking in all seriousness "I have a bad feeling about this."