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Perhaps A'Sharad should have foreseen that an unknown person using the Force to divert attention and sneaking into a clone troop barracks would cause problems.
He didn't.
Actually, no, he did, but he thought he wouldn't be detected, so he didn't worry about it.
Well, it didn't work out as well as expected.
His figure slowly but confidently slipped through the bodies, his cloak only brushing the clones around him. They couldn't see him, he made sure of that every second, using his gifts to distract their minds, and he smiled with satisfaction at his success: he didn't like drawing unnecessary attention to himself.
A glance to the left, a glance to the right. He wasn't there. Yet a Cerean Jedi was not exactly discreet, especially a man.
He sensed the Jedi General's presence somewhere in the barracks used by his men, strangely located in a rather dangerous lower level of Coruscant, but he couldn't determine his exact location.
He quietly dodged other people, speeding up as he sensed the man he was looking for, before spontaneously catching a man who fell in front of him and, given the angle of his fall, was about to break his elbow or wrist.
He looked at the clone under his long hood, the clone blinking slowly as he tilted his head back to look at him.
Within seconds, weapons – most of which were invisible to the naked eye, so the question was: where the hell had they hidden them? – were pointed at him and A'Sharad sighed.
"I had hoped to avoid this," he muttered as he slowly lifted the man, who remained carefully still and very slowly retreated to safety among his comrades.
"You! Identify yourself!" ordered authoritatively a clone from some distance, away in the crowd, but he was clearly the leader here.
So, if he remembered correctly what his Master had told him, it was the notorious – and overall prickly and rude – Bacara.
"I'm here to see Master Ki-Adi-Mundi."
"Who cares?" Bacara shouted as he approached through the crowd. "Your name! And pull down your hood! And show your hands! And put down your lightsaber, we suspect you have one with your Force osik!"
"Is that all?" He answered with a mocking smile, not exactly the type to just obey others just to please them.
He wondered if he would shoot. It would be truly amazing if he did.
"Padawan!"
The clones didn't flinch when they heard their General come out and speak, for which A'Sharad was truly grateful. He wouldn't have liked having to defend himself with a lightsaber here.
"Put your weapons down, he's my Padawan."
Slowly the men obeyed, but the distrust did not diminish.
"I'm glad to see you, it's been too long," the stern Cerean said serenely, motioning for him to approach.
A'Sharad moved forward silently, careful not to give a threatening impression. He smiled slightly at his teacher, grateful that he had not spoken his name unnecessarily. He didn't like being seen and recognized, though he was trying to get used to it now that he had removed his Tusken mask.
"Master," he nodded in return. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, a little tired but nothing I can't handle."
"And your family?"
"Our contacts are limited because of the war, but I got a message three weeks ago and everyone was fine. What about you? You were with Xiaan the last time we spoke if I remember well?"
"Everything went well, and Xiaan is fine," he said simply, still brief.
He was glad that his Master was concerned about the health and safety of his "friend" and secret lover. He didn't understand why his Master was sometimes disliked, he was just as socially useless as A'Sharad, it wasn't the end.
He walked in after his Master, pausing only a few seconds to bow and sincerely apologise to the ever attentive clones.
"My apologies, I didn't mean to disturb."
He would spend the rest of the afternoon drinking flowery tea and very sweet biscuits from Cerea, gifts from Shea, his Master's principal wife, and at one point he pulled down his hood.
He loved the feeling of being with a distant and busy but still interested grandfather.
He loved his Jedi Master very much.