Chapter Text
“Look! Look, Master Tapal!” Distant voices echoed. He drew closer, but did not answer. Youthful laughter fluttered about the air like a fynock under a jungle canopy. Such vibrant sounds had not filled his senses in a long while; to hear them again humbled him to silence.
In the Core, life was different. The Galaxy was at its own throat; many worlds and lives had been destroyed in the wake of The Clone Wars. There was no time or place for a child to simply be. With the Jedi at the helm of the Republic’s forces against the Separatist droid army, innocence and ignorance were scarce. Jaro Tapal had fought from the very beginning; first as a Jedi Knight, now as a Master and General. Prolonged war brought with it a mental exhaustion comparable to none, and Jaro had almost forgotten the bliss of calmer times.
The Lasat kits in the distance played idly; happiness easily apparent. They reminded Jaro of himself at their age, and reminded him of what really mattered. His people here, his home-world. All should have this life, Jaro believed. Or at least the opportunity for it. But only Galactic peace could offer such luxury. Many innocents in the Galaxy were as helpless as these kits, incapable of fighting and protecting themselves. This is why the War must be fought until its end. No matter the cost.
“Master, hurry!” This time the voice was familiar. Jaro’s expressive ears twitched in surprise.
Turning the corner he reached the atrium at the center of the Palace.
A red tree stretched toward balconies of the upper floors. Plants weaved around its trunk and over the marble walls. Clinging to fragile vines was a human boy. He was high beyond the third level. A crowd of kits excitedly watched from below. They squealed and clapped, encouraging him.
At the sight Jaro sucked in a deep breath. He calmed himself, withheld from letting out a string of Lasat curses. “Cal. Get down!”
Cal met Jaro’s serious gaze, noticed how his ears were raised in alarm. They’d prick up and twitch a little whenever he was panicked. Cal had learned to read his Master’s ears surprisingly fast, despite this sort of communication being entirely alien to humans.
Immediately the boy made his way down. His laughter dissipated.
A few kits bounced over to Jaro, diving at his feet.
“Isn’t he an amazing climber?!” One exclaimed.
“For a human.” Said another.
They sat eagerly awaiting his opinion and Jaro’s seriousness all but faded at the sight of them. He decided to play along, raising a brow questionably. “He is much better than before our stay… How is that so, hm?”
Eyes wide and bright, they glanced at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles and turning to see Cal.
Cal did not come running over. Instead he sat on a stone bench at the base of the tree, gazing up to red leaves tainted pink by generous sunlight. Jaro sensed something troubling him. There was a tenseness to his aura.
After dismissing the kits, shooing them toward the gardens to play, Jaro approached his Padawan.
“Cal.” He placed a comforting paw on his shoulder. And this time, Jaro’s tone was soft. “You may practice climbing whilst we are here, but never up the Palace walls. If the Guards were to have seen-”
“But why? The others are allowed-”
Jaro sighed, cutting him off. “You are not a Lasat. You may climb as swiftly, but the ground is too hard to cushion your fall… If you were to lose your footing.”
Cal paused. Realization washed over him and his stance grew stiff. His mouth was agape as he lowered his eyes to Jaro’s large feet; they were as strong and dexterous as hands, and flexible. Cal’s own were still very small, encased in a brown boot… Perhaps, his Master was right… They were not so ideal.
“No. Climbing. Inside… Understood?”
When Cal finally responded, his voice was a whisper. “Understood.”
“I know you are disappointed. Do not be. Little time has passed, yet you’ve come far... Further than even Rai at her age.”
There was a shift in Cal’s expression at the mention of her name. Rai Ondarra was a Lasat, Jaro’s previous Padawan. She’d taken longer to become a full Jedi Knight, and it’d kept Cal from being chosen as Jaro’s apprentice. Caleb Dume and Cal’s other friends were chosen by others before him. And he had waited patiently in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, alone. Despite this, Cal idolized Rai, as any Padawan would. Cal strove to follow the same path she had; currently, he was striding along it.
As Jaro knelt down to meet Cal’s short height, he saw the new focus brewing in his eyes.
He was a good Padawan, a fast learner in most regards, and always listened intently; even if the information didn’t always register in his mind the first time. He had an eagerness to learn and was surprisingly wise beyond his years; perhaps due to his unique power… But it was moments like this that Jaro wished he did not have to be strict. That he could let the boy be a boy. Though this was not the way of the Jedi, not how he had been with Rai. Cal was born to wield the Galaxy’s whill with abilities that left any who witnessed staring in awe. When honed, a Jedi’s skills had the power to bring light to those cast into unfortunate darkness. All Jaro could do was have faith that when Cal was older, he would understand why he had been thrown into this life. That he would know how much hope someone like him brought to the hopeless.
“This Palace is their home. One day your friends here shall become the Kings and Queens and Dukes of this land. Just as you have your own future.” With a steady hand he offered Cal his own lightsaber. Jaro’s differed from most Jedi’s, opting for a double-bladed saber instead of a single. “I would have you practice with mine today.”
Cal’s mind wandered curiously, as it often did. He traced the lightsaber’s hilt as it spoke to him, feeling the coldness of it against his warm hands, feeling the memories it held flow through him like a gust of wind in a storms wrath.
He ignited it then. Soft blue light emitted from each end as it gave a low hum. Cal felt the red hairs that littered his freckled skin stand on end. He gave it a slow spin, and smiled delightedly up at Jaro.
The thing was too big for him. Too heavy for him to hold without the Force’s aid. This would make him stronger though. Jaro knew there may come a day when he’d need skills to wield weapons of all sorts; especially if the kid kept up his habit of dropping and miss-placing his own.
As Jaro rose to his full height, searched out the exit, he and Cal were met by two Clone Troopers.
One wore the yellow and white armor, as did all Jaro’s Troopers, though his hair was dyed a deep purple.
“Hey kid!” Jam greeted Cal with a high five and a mischievous grin. He acknowledged Jaro, nodding firmly. “I’ll take you back to the ship for while, then we can go see the Guardsmen. Did you say goodbye?”
The two wandered off and Jaro turned his attention to the other; Clone Trooper Commander Quasar, of the 13th Battalion.
His armor differed slightly. There was not so much yellow, only a single band of it around the left forearm. The rest of his armor; shoulder plates, shins, were all an ash grey. The same shade as the Lasan Honor Guard’s armor. The commander had thought it a formal way to represent his closeness and loyalty to Master Tapal. And as a personal addition, purple and grey stripes meant to mimic a Lasat’s decorated his torso and parts of the helmet. It was a striking and distinctive look, and it suited Quasar’s austere temperament.
“It’s time, sir.”
There was a pause of a few seconds.
“Quasar?” Jaro addressed.
Quasar was familiar with the expression Jaro held; one of sincere gratitude. There was no need for him to voice his thoughts, but as they walked, he spoke anyway. “Your company… It’s appreciated. I would not be alone for this.”