Chapter Text
Plo Koon had been part of the Jedi order for 12 years, ever since he had been found wandering the streets of an unknown planet on the outer rim by master Tyyvok. He doesn’t know his parents, doesn’t know why they left him (at this point he’ll probably never know) and now all that matters is that he is being sent away from the place he has called home for almost his entire life, and he’s supposed to act like everything’s okay.
The corps are not a punishment they say, the work they do is valued and important, to be a teacher in the Educorps is an honour… He thinks their words would have more meaning If they didn’t sound so patronising, if they were more than empty platitudes that do nothing to fill the hole where his dreams used to be, if his fellow initiates and chosen padawans didn’t repeat them in hushed tones or mocking whispers.
He knows that some chose the corps, that there are initiates that can feel the forces call to teach and explore, to bring life to desolate worlds or heal, that it truly is an honour except…
Plo is meant to be a knight, he can feel it, even if nobody else seems to believe it.
He can feel the walls begin to close in as he speeds towards age 13 without an interested master in sight, the only life he knows is about to be pulled from under him.
Deep down he knows he’s going to be sent away, a Kel Dor Jedi knight is far more trouble than its worth for most masters to even consider, his needs so wildly different from normal padawans. He will be powerful if he makes it, Kel Dor always are but the journey is more dangerous and difficult than most masters are willing to risk.
The only other Kel Dorian Jedi in the order had spelt it out for him when he turned 10, voice sad and resigned but firm as he shattered his dreams. He told him how he already had a Kel Dor padawan, one that wouldn’t be graduating until Plo was well past 13 and the likelihood of a non-human Jedi taking him was low and the odds of a human taking him almost non-existent.
He outlined how difficult it would be for Plo and his caretaker.
The atmosphere Plo required would mean he could never remove his mask and goggles in his master’s company, his initiate quarters had been changed to meet his needs (and that had been isolating in itself) but if he moved in with a master he would be expected to wear his filters and gear constantly.
It was the apprentice’s job to conform to the master, one couldn’t expect a master to wear oxygen gear and not eat in their own quarters after all.
Plo himself had seen how difficult it was for humans to face him in his gear, for him to express himself effectively. Non-Jedi species often found him frightening or had trouble looking at his covered eyes and mouth and while he could do his best to express himself through body language what did it matter when couldn’t smile or share eye contact, both important tenets of human and humanoid interaction.
The mental oddity of the Kel Dor species was another nail in the coffin, simply the icing on the cake of disappointment. His species formed bonds naturally and quickly, they relied heavily on their bonds to interpret the emotions of others and keep their own emotions stable during adolescence which was not exactly a feature masters looked for in a padawan.
A permanent door you couldn’t close was not exactly a welcome addition in anyone’s mind let alone a Jedi masters, added to that was the fact that humans and Kel Dor were typically incompatible and bond between himself and a human master would probably be one way.
His bullies were right he was desperate for the touch of another mind, for someone to understand and help him sort his emotions, he had bonds with some of his creche mates and masters, but it wasn’t the same as an actual training bond with a Jedi master would be.
The other master had explained that even if a master was interested in taking him as a padawan there was no guarantee they would be willing to perform that emotional role for him as it went outside the requirements for a master.
The master had told him that if anyone was likely to take him it would be a Wookie master unfortunately one of the only suitable Wookie masters was off world on a mission to keep the newly negotiated peace of a new republic world in the outer rim.
Any hope he had was gone.
After he had been escorted back by the strange master who had saved him from Ner he had gone straight to his room, got into bed and pulled his knees into his chest.
It wasn’t fair.
It just wasn’t fair the world around them was built by humans for humans and by default humanoids, everyone else had to struggle through as best they could.
It wasn’t fair that the Jedi masters weren’t willing to take a chance, he knew he could make it work if someone gave him a chance. The Kel Dor master had explained that many masters were intimidated by the idea of taking someone with such different needs and biology especially as a first padawan, that there were too many horrors stories of master/padawan pairs that had collapsed on themselves with ill prepared masters biting off more than they could handle.
Mon Calmari that had died of dehydration on planets humans considered damp and cold, Twileks that had been kidnapped and sold when taken to planets that considered them inhuman, Wookies that overheated in desert worlds and Kel Dor that suffocated or starved when the correct atmosphere couldn’t be obtained.
Plo knew that there were reasons, good reasons even but It wasn’t fair and he was going to be made to leave.
It wasn’t even that he didn’t want to join the corps, but his people had a very strong ingrained concept of ‘home’ and this the Jedi order was his home and through no fault but simple biology he was going to be forced to leave.
It hurt.
The strange knight had told him not to give up but… What did they know? it was pretty obvious it was over for him. He hadn’t even been able to put a name to the knight which meant they weren’t around the temple very often, so they probably didn’t know anything about Kel Dor or padawans and Plo didn’t need useless platitudes.
He needed a miracle.
As he stared at the wall, he thought maybe Ner was right, and he wouldn’t have made a good Jedi knight anyway.
He pulled his blanket up to his chin and with nothing else to do, he went to sleep.
The weeks followed and like he expected he didn’t get any offers and he didn’t see the strange knight again.
The feeling of dread increased with every hour closer to his birthday and when the strange knight came to get him, he was almost too resigned to feel surprised.
Plo had no idea what they could want with him, and the strange knight didn’t say anything as they led him further into the temple where other masters and padawans gathered.
He still wasn’t the best at reading human emotions, but he thought they seemed nervous… or angry. Plo desperately threw his mind back to the last weeks having no idea what he could have done to bring out either emotion.
He was beginning to freak out and that feeling intensified when the strange knight led him into a room. His breath caught when he noticed the older Kel Dorian master there and his heart almost stopped entirely when he saw master Yoda.
Were they going to send him away early? Were they going to kick him out of the order? Had they decided he wasn’t even worthy to send to the corps?
In his panic he didn’t even notice the strange knight bending down to kneel before him again. It was a very odd thing for a knight to do for an apprentice and he noted absently that they weren’t actually all that tall, if he got the chance, he would probably grow to be considerably taller, their brown eyes outlined by what he thought were probable birthmarks or tattoos met his through a fringe of dark red hair.
The knight cleared their throat.
“Hello Plo, do you know who I am?”
Plo could only shake his head. No, no he didn’t, and he should…
“Okay then my name is Chia’ra Aryss”
Plos heart dropped again because that was a name he knew, hell it was a name everyone in the temple knew.
The peace maker. Master Yoda’s last padawan, expert negotiator and an absolute monster in sabre fighting.
He had acted like a moron in front of one of the most sought-after knights in the order.
Knight Chia’ra continued “When I met you the other week, I was searching for a potential padawan.”
There was a rushing in his ears.
“And after talking to master Yoda and master Kilum about your circumstances I would like to ask you to be my padawan.”
The rushing in his ears reached crescendo. Surely, he hadn’t just heard one of the most decorated human knights in the order offer to let him be their padawan.
All that escaped his mouth was a strangled “what?”
Knight Chi’ra lifted her hand and rubbed the back of their neck in what Plo thought was a nervous human gesture but couldn’t have been.
“Yeah, I want you as my padawan. The force seems to think it’s a good idea and I agree, I think we could be a good team. I mean obviously, there will be things to work out, but I’ll do my best to support your needs and master Kilum has been helping me get set up and filling me in on the stuff I need to know. It’s not perfect yet and I’m sure if you wanted to wait you could find another master whose better suited to take you, but master Yoda has agreed to help with some oversight given your my first padawan and everything and I…”
Knight Chia’ra was rambling, but Plo couldn’t focus beyond the sensation of his world turning upside down. They just kept talking as if they hadn’t volunteered to take on a ridiculous amount of work and make ridiculous accommodations to their life.
Before his brain could catch up with itself his body shot forwards into the rambling knight arms wrapping around their neck.
The knight under his arms froze and Plo almost instantly went to pull back.
Stupid.
That wasn’t appropriate behaviour for a padawan, he hadn’t been accepted yet and he was screwing up.
Before he could pull back, hesitant arms came up and wrapped carefully around him in return.
“Is that a, yes?”
Plo couldn’t help his shocked laugh that might have been slightly hysterical even through his vocoder.
He pulled back and dipped into the lowest bow he could “Yes master.”
Grand master Yoda got up and chuckled. Plo watched wide eyed as he poked his surprised master (he had a master!) in the chest.
“Do things by halves you do not my padawan.”
Chia’ra laughed and her smile turned into a smirk and in a voice that greatly resembled the grand master.
“Do or do not there is no try. There’s no point in doing things halfway especially if it’s something important. Go big or go home. Come on Plo let’s get you to my quarters once you’re settled, I’ll claim you before the council.”
His stomach did a swoop again. The council. What would they say to this? Knight Chia’ra was a new knight, and he was an old, difficult padawan who would need all sorts of considerations.
“Hey, relax Plo it’s just a formality, anything they can come up with I’ve already got a counter argument ready and more importantly I have master Yoda and master Kilum on side. Now come on.”
Plos mind swam as he followed his new master down the hall to their quarters. So caught up in his own thoughts he nearly bumped into his master when they stopped outside a non-descript door.
He blinked up at them as they reached into their robes and pulled out a pair of goggles, a mask and what looked like a small oxygen tank?
“What?”
They smiled at him “well I can’t exactly breath in there without my oxygen mask can I?”
Plo though he might actually die if he kept failing to breath properly.
“What?”
“Well, I figure I’ve got the whole temple and almost every planet in the galaxy to breath on, you only had your own rooms. I figured it’s a bit unfair for you to have to wear the mask and filters every day 24/7 for your entire apprenticeship, everyone deserves somewhere safe they don’t have to wear a mask.”
If Plo could cry, he most definitely would be. This was more than he could possibly have even fathomed.
“But master these are your quarters. I couldn’t, you shouldn’t…I can…”
What did he say to encapsulate how wrong this was? Plo should fit his master not the other way around.
His master looked at him seriously, kneeling down to his height again. Again, he noted his attention was drawn straight back to their eyes which didn’t flinch away from his mask.
“Alright kid, listen up. I’ve decided that I want you as my padawan not because of pity or whatever you’re thinking but because I want you, and that means that as the adult who made a decision to take you, it’s my responsibility to meet your needs and you need this. Like I said I have a whole galaxy of breathable air, the mask doesn’t bother me and there are lots of places I can got to take the mask off, you do not. Trust me It’s important that you have this, even a Kel Dor teenager needs their space, and this will hopefully save a lot of grief down the road.”
Plo had no idea what that last statement meant; he was at a loss.
“But…I… You…”
His master huffed and drew themselves up “No buts. I have spoken” and then they walked into the room.
Plo blinked and hurried after them… that was certainly one way to end an argument.
Stood in the middle of the room his master turned to him again “We are seriously going to have to work on your arguments my young padawan. You’ll never survive Yoda and Yan like that.”
Master Yoda and Master Dooku, Oh God he had a prestigious lineage what if they didn’t like him? Master Yoda seemed happy enough, but Master Dooku was terrifying.
His panic must have been written somewhere in his body language because his master actually laughed and began to steer him towards his bedroom.
“Don’t worry padawan, I’ve got your back. I won’t through you to those rabid jackals until you’re ready”
That did absolutely nothing to comfort him.
“Now this is your room we’ll get your stuff after our meeting with the council and move it over.”
They were so confident speaking as if the Jedi high council weren’t even an obstacle. What was he even supposed to say?
In the end he said the only thing his worn out mind could come up with “Yes master.”