Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Someday soon I’m going to die, I’m going to die and then I’m going to throw the biggest tantrum ever seen by a dead person.
Hell will have nothing on my rage, Satan himself will be so scared he’ll fly right back to daddy and beg for mercy, and do you want to know why?

Because I have a bone to pick with the absolute, unmitigated arsehole that thought It would be funny for me to spend my second life as a jedi, and not just any jedi, a jedi born just before everything went to hell in a handbasket.
Let me give you some context. I died in one world and woke up as an infant in a galaxy very very far away from where I was supposed to be.

Thankfully I was a human infant but still.

I was left on the steps of the jedi temple Dumbledore style with a note and a name and a whole load of unresolved issues.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not angry exactly. The Jedi temple is actually a pretty sweet deal. I mean I was hella confused and absolutely baffled for a good part of my childhood, it took me a disturbingly long time to work out what had happened (because dead and reincarnated into a fictional world wasn’t in my top 10 list of things that happen to people no matter what anime says) and when I did work it out I was even more consistently baffled.

I mean… Why? Just why?

What possible reason was there? I was normal, a bit above average in intelligence but otherwise unremarkable and happily going about life like the good little human drone.

I was in the middle of my first semester exams for crying out loud!

Needless to say I spend the age of 4-5 having an existential crisis. Fortunately, and worryingly the Jedi temple seemed to be rather full of people all having simultaneous crises of some description and the creche seemed well equipped to handle my existential terror.
No matter how weird or out of the ordinary I got they just put me to bed with some force magic, gave me lots of cuddles and sweets, let me hit (spar) with people and wooden sticks and then let me go away and nap in small tight spaces where no one could hear me cry.

Is jedi child rearing worrying?

Yes absolutely.

Did it help me in particular?

Again the answer was yes.

The absolutely no fucks given way of childrearing seemed to go a long way to calming me down and helping me get my shit together. No-one over reacted or called me a demon, they didn't try to get rid of me or hurt me or find out if something was wrong in my head.

Apparently that was not the Jedi way.

No matter what I did for the most part all I got was some fortune cookie wisdom, a time out and a pat on the back.

The Jedi creche masters were undaunted and unflappable which makes incredible sense when you think about it. Being put in charge of a bunch of alien children that have a connection to what (in my mind) is most likely an eldritch being from beyond the veil and no control would make even the oddest reactions seem normal(ish). In the grand scheme of things my quiet, contained yearlong breakdown probably didn’t even register when Iki was tearing through durasteel chairs when she got angry.

Of course, while this collective delusion of normal child behaviour was helpful, I realise I only slipped through because I was so young. Jedi children younger than 6 in the creche were pretty much expected to be emotional wrecks. Some of us had been abandoned (like me), some had been given away and some of us had been taken away from unfortunate situations, add in an uncontrolled connection to a cosmic entity that gave visions and connects you to the emotions of other people and you’ve got a lot of emotionally fucked up kids.

The movie Jedi made a lot more sense in this context.

Anyway, past the age of 6 you were supposed to start getting a grip on yourself, nap time became meditation, yoga and proper structured sparring was added to the itinerary along with a bunch of other lessons and calmness and peace was emphasised and expected.

It was at about this time I began to shift through what I actually knew about my new world which, as it turned out was not a lot. I'll be honest I'm not a Star Wars nerd or at least not for the mainstream series. The prequels, original trilogy and the sequels just didn't do it for me, I was far too into Harry Potter and LOTR at that time in my life to make room for Star Wars and when I did get into it later my vision had already been coloured by the fandom.

However, what I did fall hard for was the extended universe. The Clone Wars, The Mandalorian, Jedi apprentice and my favourite character Obi Wan Kenobi were all things I knew enough about to be a passable nerd. Unfortunately a lot of my information came from fanfiction so I had a very select mostly fanon, maybe canon insight into my new life, although given how everything got retconned and scrapped maybe I don't actually know anything.

My view of this world was skewed by my fanfiction habits. In my head Mace Windu was secretly a marshmallow under all that hardass, Obi Wan was a hot wonderful man who was self-sacrificing to a fault and utterly incapable of caring for himself, Dooku was a misunderstood man who fell to the darkside because of grief and Qui-Gon Jinn was almost Satan incarnate.

Needless to say none of this was helpful to my current predicament.

Mainly because and here the kicker, only one of those people currently exists at this point in the timeline. Dooku is the only one who was alive, and he had only just become master Yoda’s padawan.

What the fuck.

It did give me a vague timeline though. I remember reading as I browsed through a Wookiepedia entry that Dooku was born about 102BBY. Given how I was 6 and he was about 19 I was before the plot, way before.

Anyway, Count Dooku, Darth Tyranus leader of the separatists, responsible for the clones and all-around bad guy was at this point a snappy scowling 19-year-old grump who didn’t know how to hold a baby.

Again, what the fuck.

I was early, super early and I know when that ball gets rolling it goes downhill quicker than a cheetah on a rocket but fuck me.

Eventually I got fed up of hyperventilating in corners. The crèche masters were starting to notice and people were beginning to look at me funny so I dealt with this knowledge the only way I knew how.

I took a nap and pondered the meaning of life.

This worked surprisingly well.

Nobody called me out on it as long as I wasn’t breaking down or going insane (stupid Jedi order, even I can clear a bar that low), they were content to leave me be again, and I was content to be left. Very content in fact.

Only people over a certain age will understand how wonderful naptime is. When you’re a kid all you want is freedom, when you’re an adult all you want is to find a nice dark corner where you can curl up and ignore your problems. During these times of peace and stillness I came to a conclusion about my life.

It didn’t really matter.

Not like that. I’m not some angst-ridden teenager I know my life would matter and that I could do important things.

I would help people as a Jedi but ultimately in my mind this story had an predetermined ending and I wasn’t even a cog in the machine. At the end of the day everything would turn out okay and I wouldn't need to do anything, I probably couldn’t do anything in fact. By the time we reached anything important I’d probably be dead or too old to do anything.

Right here and now there was no pressure, being a Jedi knight would be cool, but it didn’t mean as much to me as to the other kids and as my lessons continued, I realised that I would be happy anywhere in this galaxy doing almost anything.

Everything was a novelty, droids, space flight, xenobiology hell even plants were suddenly interesting when they could spit poisons and were actual man eaters. Even the foundations of the universe were new and exciting maths, physics and engineering were all different and what others found boring and mundane was to me exciting and different.

It was stunning. I had a whole entire galaxy full of new concepts, of droids and AI’s and aliens with different biology and cultures and I could live however I wanted.

Agricorps, Medicorps, Exploracorps, Educorps I knew that I could go anywhere and still be happy and excited with my life.

It was freeing.

It was exciting and this realisation helped me find my centre.

This newfound peace had a knock-on effect in that I became very peaceful in the force apparently.

People would come to my little nap circle, and I would almost always wake up surrounded by more living things than I went to sleep with. Animals, children, and even other knights seemed bemused by my zen.

With this In mind I decided that for this life I was going to emulate Nara Shikamaru and all the other lazy geniuses from my first life.

Chilled, badass and utterly unbothered by the way the world was going to descend into Sith related madness within the next 90 years or so.
That was my goal.

Of course, I wasn’t a genius but given how interesting everything was I didn’t really need to be to get good scores, I was fully into this life for a good time not a long time and that meant putting effort into the things I wanted.

Within the creche I was well liked, everyone knew that if you wanted a break from screaming wild children you could go find me and my little nap circle. My clan mates found me easy to get along with if not easy to get to know and they appreciated my laid-back attitud.

several of them found solace with me as we grew.

The creche became steadily more competitive as we approached padawan age. While I was content to go with the flow, or as the creche masters called it trusting the will of the force others became stressed and frightened.

It was time to acknowledge that while my time with the Jedi was good they were far from perfect.

My perspective on this world was different and I could find peace in that but the almost caste like system the order had with the other corps was not a healthy one and it practically bred resentment. When you bring children up for one purpose and then strip it away based on their perceived faults it tends to not go over well or created a healthy atmosphere.

At around age 10 bullying became a problem, a big problem.

Now, I was, for the most part fine. The whole Jedi knight thing wasn’t as big for me and I struggled to feel the worry the others felt. If a master wanted me that was great and if they didn’t well they could shove whatever faults they thought I had up their sanctimonious arsehole.

Okay...

Maybe I wasn’t as chill as I wanted to be about this..

The whole thing was brutal and callous in a way that seemed almost premeditated. I didn’t even care that much but I still felt the eyes and the judgements of the interested masters. I still had to watch as my clan became strained and angry vying for positions from people who’d already made up their mind. I had to put up with children ruining my naps and attempting to goad me into an emotional response as they tried to hide their own insecurities.

It wasn’t nice or kind and I did not appreciate it.

Thankfully I was an expert in snark and not a bad hand at lightsaber combat (who wouldn’t be absolutely fascinated by a shiny glowstick that can cut through steel?) and while I never lost my shit outside of a sanctioned spar, I made sure everyone knew that messing with me wasn’t the way to go.

Some still tried of course but I was very good at avoiding others at this point in my life.

Calm, cool, collected, and badass that was my mantra and it worked.

Others were less fortunate, but I always welcomed them to my nap circle where they could escape the bullies and stress for at least a little while.
My general badassery and lack of fucks got noticed eventually and when I turned 11, I got approached by a Jedi. I was lounging by a pond in the room of a thousand fountains staring at the multitude of fish and plants when I felt a presence join me.

Cracking my eyes open I was unsurprised to see the wrinkled face of Yoda. This wasn’t the first time Yoda had joined me while I was napping, he seemed to have an awful lot of time on his hands for someone who ran the order and often spent it messing with the children in the creche. He and master Yaddle taught us lessons, played games with us and sometimes just straight up messed with us by spouting indecipherable wisdom in our general direction.

What was odd was that he was alone and so was I. Normally when he joined my naps he joined when there was a group.

I got a worrying feeling.

I rolled my head to meet his eyes and raised my eyebrow, disrespectful maybe, but I was in the middle of looking at the fish and it was obvious he wanted to talk.

“What doing are you?”

Okay so before anything else I should say that master Yoda’s accent is never not irritating and I’m almost positive it’s deliberate, he is a troll in a literal and figurative sense. Part of me understands that at 800 years old you have to get your kicks where you can but still.

I sighed.

“I am attempting to seek the guidance of the force master.”

This excuse worked for almost every situation where I was caught sleeping where I shouldn’t be. If you can keep a straight face and calm a calm exterior the ‘will of the force’ or ‘seeking the forces guidance’ were two of the most powerful excuses in the temple.

My poker face was impeccable and my ability to bullshit legendary among the creche masters, how other people in the temple don’t call me out on my utter bullshit I will never know.

Master Yoda looked like he might. He had twinkly Dumbledore eyes going on.

“Oh? And what does the force say? Hummm?”

Honestly not a lot. I know I haven’t talked a lot about the supreme cosmic being those lives inside my head all that much but honestly there wasn’t much to mention. I didn’t often have visions and any I did have tended to be amusing over scary, prophecy was never going to be something I put stock in after watching too much TV and movies and I already knew what would happen and it would happen without me interfering.
I got the occasional nudges and my extra instinct told me the best place to catch some uninterrupted sleep but otherwise I was just did what I wanted, what did I need guidance for?

But still I closed my eyes and listened. Despite my lack of need for the force it did often answer me when I searched, not in words just feelings. It was freaky as all get out the first few times but now I’ll admit it was a comfort.

“It tells me you have something important to ask me master.”

It didn't but It didn't take a genius to make an educated guess.

“Indeed, young one. Different you are. Strong you are. My padawan you will be.”

Yodas speech didn’t leave much room for questions but I could tell it was an offer… A declinable offer.

I closed my eyes again. Why? If the force was telling Yoda that was the way to go then I might well be screwed.

Taking a deep breath I reached out into the void and almost instantly I could almost see the many paths before me.

If I said no to Yoda, no other knight would ask me, the knowledge that I had turned down the head of the order would spread like wildfire. I would be ostracised for declining what most jedi and most of my clan mates would consider a dream come true.

I would go on to one of the corps and live my life happily and peacefully saving lives and helping others with my knowledge. I would be happy like I always knew I would be.

The Yoda paths were bumpier. If I said yes to Yoda, my immediate future got quicker? If the learning curve for the other future was a stream this future was a rapid, I would learn much and I would learn fast. It would be amazing.

Past that decision the paths branched again.

I could fade back into the background. Yoda taught many and I could just go back to being one of them, a good knight but an unremarkable face in the sea of remarkable individuals that will dominate the coming years or… I could not do that. As I looked further I saw a path with equal darkness and light a path that twisted in so many different directions a path full of hate, a path full of sorrow, a path full of family and joy even in the darkness.

I think I stopped breathing. That was the path to change the future.

I had always been under the impression that what would be will be, its hard to believe that the future is always in motion when you’ve seen it written down and watched it happen like a slow motion train wreck with a cinema full of people.

The force had never corrected meon this point and I realise now that it was because up until this point nothing had been important, if I said no to Yoda here… If I said no, I truly lost the chance to change anything.

But did I want the chance in the first place?

I had found peace happiness and acceptance in the fact that nothing I did affected the fundamental story of this universe, I could be free.

But now that wasn’t true, but it could be.

If I said no, I could continue on as I had been safe in the knowledge that things will happen as they should and I could be happy.

But could I be happy knowing I let this opportunity slip away? Not the opportunity to change the future (I’m definitely not sold on that) but the opportunity to learn from Grandmaster Yoda, 800-year-old badass.

I wanted to learn about this world and while I could do that on the other path, the Yoda path would be a true space experience. No matter what I chose, I would be brilliant, but the Yoda path could make me amazing.

I opened my eyes back up to look at Yoda, although it felt like I had contemplated my decision for hours it had only been minutes.

I sat up fully.

“Master Yoda it would be an honour.”

Despite the approval of the force it felt like I had just taken one step closer to the woodchipper.

Chapter Text

It’s got to be said that life with Yoda is like a dream, in the way that Its, wild, unpredictable and, that when you look back on it very rarely does it make any sense.

Yoda is a troll, a literal and figurative troll and you either adapt to his bullshit or die.

Mace Windu as a character makes a lot more sense to me now. You either double down and repress all your emotions and follow the rules or you straight up learn to deadpan in the face of insanity and roll with it. There are very few emotionally healthy ways to deal with someone who never gets angry, has never given a straight answer in his life and hits you with his stick when he thinks you’re being a moron.

Which is 99% of the time.

I’m a grown ass human being and I have never heard more useless ridiculous nonsense as some of the advice Yoda gives and everything pretty much boils down to either; work it out yourself or interpret this phrase to mean whatever you want and then work it out yourself.

Needless to say, we did not get along at first. I wanted guidance and straight answers and Yoda refused to give them and refused to let me move on with anything until I’d worked out the answer that I asked the question for.

Round and round we went in circular conversation. Me set and my disinterest in philosophising about the existence of dark and light, good and evil and Yoda acting like a walking talking self-help book full of meaningless quotes and platitudes.

It was frustrating, pointless and its no wonder the Jedi never talk about their feelings when everything gets put down to a Yoda’s version of keep calm and carry on.

My padawanship with Yoda is the first time in this new life I’ve been that angry. Sure, I got frustrated in the creche because children are stupid and so are adults, but it was nothing like this. Yoda pressed all my buttons, and he did it deliberately.

I truly believe there was more to him than this vague irritating crap and every so often I got glimpses of the truly wise and great teacher Yoda could be.
Some part of me knew he was trying to push me to find my own answers, every time Yoda talked me in a circle the gist of his nonsense would be to go and ask someone specific, he’d give me hints to who I should ask and then wander off to do whatever it was he did for the order.

I begrudgingly admit it was decent enough strategy and later on I appreciated his methods. I eventually grew into a master interrogator and detective that could sniff out information better than a bloodhound, but it didn’t change the fact that it was upsetting, difficult and that if I had been any less mature, say an actual child the effects could have been very different.

Truthfully this method of teaching had other reasons, Yoda was a busy troll and didn’t always have time to answer my every question in the detail it deserved.

I had a lot of questions.

Of course, after a year I realised that beyond making me answer my own questions and fostering my independence he was pushing me further and further out into the temple. The people he set me on were often senior padawans or masters with padawans of their own and it was only after I’d spent an entire afternoon commiserating with master Ty’ra’s padawan I thought there might have been more to it.

He was trying to force me to make friends.

That bastard…

Okay so I might have some issues about making friends which was why it took me a year to connect the dots.

When I thought I couldn’t change the future there wasn’t any point in making friends. My age mates were children and while I appreciated them, and they liked me there was always a barrier. I had figured I would wait until I was a knight or in the corps before making friendly overtures maybe with people outside of the order, the inevitable genocide did put a bit of a damper on things.

But now not only was I going to be stuck at the temple for the foreseeable future, that genocide didn’t have to happen.

I still wasn’t sold on the change the future thing at the end of the story everything worked itself out. Balance in the force, dead Sith and a galaxy, that was, in my darkest thoughts perhaps better off for not having the Jedi and Sith in it.

The road there was long winding and full of death but surely any road I forged might be even worse.

My mind flashed back to a path filled with darkness.

All I wanted from this life was to be free. Free to research droids and plants and planets, to learn cool lightsabre tricks and force magic and then be gone by the time the insanity rolled around.

Picking up the entire fate of the galaxy and putting it on my shoulders definitely wasn’t part of the plan.

I took a deep breath and resolutely decided that I was being dramatic and that surely making a friend or two didn’t have to mean anything.

I didn’t have to get involved if I made friends with a couple of nameless Jedi…

A problem for another time…

Anyway, back to Yoda.

Despite his infuriating way with words, he did teach me a lot. He showed me lightsabre forms and despite his height I saw why he was fearsome. The movies don’t do it justice, he just looks comical but here…It was impossible to win against him as he whirled around the room like a pinball.

I think the form I am going to settle on will be a defensive one. I am not an all-out aggressive fighter, I’m swift and I’m quick but Ataru and Djem sho never sat with me I’m more of a stay out of range and let them come to you fighter than a take it to them and make them pay for it kind.

I would never be the power type, but I thought with practice I would make a good defender.

I’ve also got to admit that my thing for Obi Wan and his type of badassery might be at play here too.

The suave confident unflappable archetype was the aim and I’m 90% sure Yoda is trying to make a diplomat out of me.

Yoda had also made time specifically for me to meditate and for us to nap together. We made quite a site. Yoda is 800 years old, and he still like to touch people. I never realised it but he did, he climbed over me like a jungle gym. I wasn’t big but as I grew, he sat on my shoulders and on my arm, he laid on my chest as I fell asleep and in those most peaceful moments, I knew Yoda felt lonely.

Despite his flaws 800 years is a long time and a lot of people to lose with only one other of your own species. Ignoring the potential genocide I could expect to live to be 150 and for me that was a frighteningly long time.

Yoda didn’t know the future, but he knew the end result for every single one of those he taught. He was flawed and stuck in his ways and some of the biggest things we fought about were what I wanted vs what he believed I should want and while I was willing to compromise… Yoda never quite managed it without me going to truly astounding lengths.

Ironically, I was a much more rebellious teen this time around.

When I turned 17, I realised I was firmly invested and attached to a side character.

I had a freak out about it and again resolutely shoved all those feelings to the back of my mind. Yoda was fine at the end he made it to 999 and died peacefully.

I didn’t need to intervene.

I didn’t.

Also, at 17 I encountered problem number 2. Me and Yoda didn’t go on lots of missions together outside of certain diplomatic events, but he did make sure there were others to take me.

Count Dooku was using me as a practice baby before he got Qui Gon-Jinn.

Me and Yoda argued in circles me but and Dooku argued like the sea raging against a wall.
Surprisingly I was the wall.

He was tempestuous and arrogant all pomp and circumstance and so very fun to rile up. You can say what you want about Jedi emotion, but we are sentient, we feel very strongly, and Yan Dooku was very much full of feeling.

Him and Yoda didn’t really get along for the same reasons me and Yoda argued, but where I was willing to sift through all the irrelevant bullshit and calm back down and compromise. Dooku thought it meant Yoda was treating him like a child, he didn’t have the patience, didn’t like the hit to his pride and never hid all of his righteous, burning, emotion. In his youth he was a very powerful Jedi and most definitely the master to Qui Gon Jinn.

He was so fun to mess with.

I quoted Yoda, I quoted the rules and I watched as Dooku realised what I was doing and still couldn’t resist the fight.

Headstrong and unfortunately brilliant. He knew what I was doing and as I aged and my skill with words improved, I think he began to enjoy our fights. They weren’t screaming matches (okay there was that one time) but they were challenges of ideals, knowing what I knew about the future I couldn’t resist playing devil’s advocate, the taste of irony and the veil of future knowledge made every interaction interesting.

The saddest thing I could see was he wanted to do good, to take action he thought the council were slow and too stuck in tradition to act when necessary. He thought that the senate, which was already beginning its encroachment and slow systematic manipulation of the Jedi and outer worlds was too involved.

He wasn’t wrong.

But…

I didn’t want to like that magnificent bastard, but he had some good points and…He taught me Makashi.

He was a bad guy, but I liked him.
He was a good person, but he fell.

And after 10 years as Yoda’s apprentice, I realised I had another attachment and this one was a problem.

Trying to convince myself that the Dooku thing also didn’t matter was a lot harder than the Yoda thing.

Dooku didn’t die peacefully, he was murdered after turning his back on everything he loved and everyone who loved him. Killed after allowing himself to be manipulated like a puppet and beheaded by a man who would go on to become a monster.

It wasn’t happy and it wasn’t peaceful but was it enough for me to go back on everything I had decided about the future. If it wasn’t Dooku it would be someone else. Someone worse? Someone better? Would the other side in the engineered army even be the separatists or some other faction?

War was inevitable. Palpatine wasn’t even important in the senate yet and already things were sliding downwards.
Manipulations so subtle even I could only see them in hindsight. The Sith had been setting up this chess board for a millennium, they had all the pieces laid out and the strategies already in play.

The Jedi didn’t even know they were playing.

That there would be a war wasn’t a debate the choice was who would be fighting in it. The Jedi Vs the Sith. Droids Vs Clones. Separatists Vs the Republic all were interchangeable and without Dooku…

It wasn’t fair this shouldn’t be my choice.

Everything was better when I thought it couldn’t be changed, this nagging persistent desire to do better. What good was it? Dooku would make his choices, what right did I have to change them.

What if instead of clones and droids its clones and other humans or clones and clones? The death toll would skyrocket. What if it wasn’t clones at all but galaxy wide conscription?

If I changed the future and everything got worse what then? That would be my fault and only my fault… All those lives…

What if I tried and failed? What if I gave my everything and Dooku still fell taking a piece of me with him? What then?

….

OW!

What the fuck.

I opened my eyes and realised that I was sat on the floor with my back pressed against the wall. Yoda stood in front of me brandishing his stick.

I blinked. How long had I been here?

“Padawan.”

My eyes snapped to Yoda. I didn’t often get that tone unless I’d done something monumentally foolish.

“Frightened you are.”

A pointless statement and not an incorrect one.

“Fear leads to the dark side.”

Anger. Didn’t he think I knew that? Everybody from Coruscant to Tatooine knew that. How was it helpful?

Something must have shown on my face because I got another bonk with the stick.

“In the moment you are not. In the moment you must be, the future always in motion is.”

I could almost feel the hysterical giggle bubble up in my throat. The future is in motion, a swift downwards motion that will end in betrayal and genocide if I couldn’t make a decision and probably still would even if I made a choice.

I got another poke.

“Come young one.”

Well okay then
.
As Yoda moved me out of the hallway and into the room of a thousand fountains the static in my ears began receding.

What a mess.

“Meditate we will.”

Because of course the answer to every Jedi problem ever was more meditation.

Sometimes I just needed a hug.

As salty as that thought made me it did help. I was worrying over something that hadn’t happened yet and wouldn’t for at least 40 years.

Dooku was a problem but for now I still had time there wasn’t hide nor hair of a main character yet and the inevitable decision was a problem for another me another time.

Sorry future me, I’ll buy you something nice the next time I get drunk.

Chapter Text

Regardless of my continuing freak out life continued on.

Continuing my trend of being a hopeless overachieving nerd I choose the charming combination of Makashi and Soresu as my lightsabre forms. A winning combination but ridiculously difficult in practice. The shift from completely stable defence to dangerous offence was incredibly hard especially because for the first several years I couldn’t even spot the opening my far superior opponents left available. When you are looking for weakness in the likes of Yan Dooku, Yoda and Cin Drallig there is not a lot of options, even if they are taking pity on you.

In the beginning, the middle and I’m sure it would happen at the end I got my ass handed back to me regularly complete with aching muscles, dark bruises and on some more memorable occasions broken bones.

But I was stubborn and in true lineage fashion I doubled down on my incredible ill-advised decision.

Thankfully not everyone was a certified Jedi badass and by the time I was 20 and a senior padawan I had quite the reputation for duelling which I won’t say was undeserved. I mean, I had to find ways to pick up my shattered self-esteem somewhere and apparently the other padawans and even some knights weren’t quite as determined to suffer for their duelling skills as I was.

Of course, there were multiple other changes that occurred over my apprenticeship. Yan got a padawan who was not Qui-Gon, making me wish once again I had paid more attention to the finer details of the Star Wars extended universe, the fact that I had never heard of Rael didn’t exactly bode well for his future chances.

In the skills department my proximity to Yan and Yoda had taken my ability to debate and bullshit to hitherto unknown heights. In my last life I developed into an excellent bullshitter (being forced to do presentations on subjects I had very little knowledge about did that to a person) but I had never been quite so eloquent or charismatic as I was in this life.

I was frankly impressed with myself. It did help that the galaxy's understanding of the Jedi was almost fantastical, truly ‘space wizard’ was probably the most apt description and the closest most beings got to understanding us.
As it turns out my previous excuses of ‘the will of the force’ or ‘communing with the force’ worked on an almost galaxy wide scale. You would be amazed at what other sentient intelligent beings would let you get away with just saying those words and being a Jedi.

It was like the whole galaxy just shrugged and said ‘Jedi. They just be like that.’

I’ve been caught in so many compromising positions on diplomatic missions and gotten off Scott free by putting my best calm, serene, I am a jedi face on and deadpanning about communing with nature.

It’s bullshit and its brilliant and as far as I’m concerned, it’s the Jedi way. (It’s ridiculous and the disconnect and misunderstanding will eventually backfire spectacularly).

Outside and inside the temple I’m slowly growing a reputation as ‘the unconventional Jedi’, screw Qui-Gon I was becoming the original maverick of the Jedi order.

Not that it’s that hard. The Jedi of this time really are sticklers.

The council of today with an average age somewhere of 80 and the ideals to match make the council that spoke to Anakin in Phantom Menace look practically relaxed if you can believe it, the council now is legitimately terrifying and not in a good badass way.

Thankfully Yoda and Dooku do a good job as human shields and no matter what anyone says about my methods, I do get results, so I don’t have to deal with them too often.
My results speak for themselves and if the number of solo missions I’ve been sent on in the last couple of years mean anything my knight trials are impending.

Another development is the appearance of a very tiny Mace Windu and Qui-Gon Jinn in the creche. Mace got searched at 3 years old and a 2-Year-old Qui Gon was left on the temple steps shortly after. For two people that would grow up to be some of the strongest men in the order they were terribly cute.

Mace Windu with baby fat, huge eyes and a slight lisp almost made me melt into a puddle on the floor. Tiny Qui-Gon is already on his was to being a problem child, always making a run for it, in fact more than once I have fallen asleep in the room of a thousand fountains only to wake and find myself covered in younglings led by Qui-Gon and aided by Mace.

I honestly cannot stress how cute they are and how I will hold it over their heads forever and ever, especially since one of them is destined to be my padawan brother and the other my nephew.

Along those lines after lots of meditation and crying I have decided to let Yans story line run how it wants, if my being here makes a difference so be it but I’m still avoiding direct interference. If I change the plot by existing there is nothing, I can do about it short of running away and I’m not sure that wouldn’t have a more dramatic effect itself.

I’m ingrained in the Jedi whether I like it or not.

At 21 Yoda puts me forward for the trials and I accept.

I’m strong and I’m ready and more importantly I’m at peace with myself again.
.
Kind of…… I’m sure I’m close enough.
…
…
…
It’s not enough.

I come out of the trials haunted by scenes of a future that will be and a Yan begging me to save him from himself while Yoda watches sadly alone in a swamp.

After my trials I am not at peace at all. I might have passed, emerged from the chamber with a white knuckled grip on my green lightsabre but the visions have ignited that terror in my heart all over again.
That desperation, that nagging voice in my head that’s probably the force telling me to just shut up and try. Its louder than ever and it screams in my head and tears at my heart every time I see Yoda and Yan and Mace and Qui-Gon and think about what will be.

Yan, Yoda, Mace, Qui Gon, Obi Wan, Anakin, the clones the list gets longer every time I think about my choices spiralling as the genocide of everything, I’ve known in this life creeps closer and closer every passing year.

I’m attached.

I’m so fucking attached that it hurts. I’m so attached that I might be willing to risk the world for those attachments. It’s dangerous, its everything the Jedi caution against, everything I’ve tried to talk myself out of but…

There’s no guarantee of anything, if I change the future, it might be worse, everything might still happen the way fate intends and instead of an eventual happy ending no one ever finds peace… or it might be better, and I might not even make it that far.

I’m scared to try.

I’m attached and I’m frightened not a very auspicious start for a new Jedi knight.

In the past I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to think about my circumstances or what it… what I might mean for the future, it one hell of a burden to bear but now…

I think I was trapped the moment I knew changing the future was an option, I just didn’t want to accept it.

The force works in mysterious ways that we mortals can only attempt to understand and sometimes. When you’re being a moron the force hits you over the head with the sledgehammer of realisation, much like Yoda with his stick.

I think I understand. I would like to try and change the future I just don’t know how.

In the name of avoiding my steadily multiplying problems and avoiding my depressing philosophical thoughts I decide to force myself onwards I go see Qui Gon and Mace in the creche and decide to keep an eye out for other familiar faces. I force my way through to Yan wherever he is, we get into arguments and practice Makashi and I get to know Rael despite the fact he will probably die before Phantom menace. I find Yoda and sit on him as we nap together and meditate because even though he’s not my master anymore sometimes I still think he’s lonely.

I begin taking harder and harder missions. I negotiate peace and form treaties and sometimes get chased off worlds in a daring escape. I seek out aliens of different races and culture and I’ve had a drink with a Mandalorian all the time doing my best to ignore that particularly wriggly can worms.

My reputation outside of the temple as a smooth talking, unconventional, dependable peacekeeper grows and takes hits in equal measure. I don’t quite get a nickname (that I know of) but I certainly get more exposure and If I make friends with some interesting people in the senate then that my business not yours.

My reputation in the temple as a crazy bullshit spewing lightsabre maniac grows as well.

It’s fun, its brilliant its full of everything living in the Star Wars universe should be.

It's effort, it’s frightening and the feeling of being lost and helpless doesn’t quite ever quite go away.

I’ve decided to change the future isn’t there more I could be doing?

My work ethic and increasingly reckless choices is unfortunately the one thing that brings the two mother hens that are secretly masquerading as Yan and Yoda together, unified in one goal.

Get me to take a padawan.

Because according to Yoda nothing can’t be resolved by throwing children at it.

Not that I’m not glad to see them getting along but really wish that they hadn’t chosen this hill to die on.

A padawan is a big step. They are literally tiny people who move into your house, eat your food, and rely on you for all their emotional and physical needs. It’s basically having a child and I am not ready for children!

At 24 in my last life, I barely qualified as a functioning adult, I was living off noodles and getting my master’s degree and absolutely nowhere near ready for the responsibility of a child.

It doesn’t help I dislike the way the system works. The judging and the stress from my creche days, the strain it put on my relationships within my clan and how everyone seemed to fall apart.

I still don’t like it.

A padawan relies on their master for everything. At the temple it’s not so bad but in the field… A master has to provide food and clothes and is responsible for everything that a padawan does. Discipline is also entirely at a master’s discretion.
With Yoda it wasn’t too bad. He was relaxed and experienced enough in raising a padawan that he knew when discipline was needed and what was appropriate, and given I was already mature and wasn’t really looking to cause trouble nothing really needed to happen in regard to punishing me.

I mean sometimes I got a bonk with the stick or a time out, occasionally I was made to do meditation or katas but nothing that actually bothered me, looking back on it I admit they were often well deserved.

This was not the case for some masters.

Different aliens had different customs and stances when it came to discipline and once you were apprenticed to a teacher no one could take you away from them unless it was requested by the two parties involved with a good reason.

It was probably why the Jinn Kenobi partnership wasn’t split after their legendary dysfunctionality.

I thought it was a system far too easy to take advantage of and although no one ever talked about it I didn’t doubt that there were people taking advantage of it.

Jedi are not saints and unrestricted access to someone completely dependent upon you with little oversight was asking for trouble.
I want to make it clear that while I had the aforementioned problems with the system it was often nowhere near that bad and my thoughts were mostly pervious life and fanfiction habits rearing their head.

Padawans were told about various species differences and expectations before they agreed to the apprenticeships, they had their supports systems in the form of their creche mates and since Jedi often worked together it allowed other masters to interact with padawans and hopefully spot anything amiss.

Separating a master padawan pair was a last resort but there were steps and sanctions in between.
It wasn’t perfect and like I said I didn’t doubt there were some masters that took things to far and some unhappy padawans master pair stuck in unfortunate partnerships where their personalities didn’t match but for this culture of wizard space monks it was the standard.
Either way the bottom line was that I wouldn’t take a padawan I wasn’t ready for and no amount of Yoda and Yans manipulation would convince me.

Looking back, they were some famous last words.

Chapter Text

At 27 I took a padawan. I wasn’t expecting it, they weren’t expecting it and from the fall out not even Yoda expected the one I chose.

While I had been early getting my knighthood (normal apprentices tended to last around 11 or 12 years) I was a bit late to start looking at a mastery. Given the sheer diversity and different cultural benchmarks for when one was considered ‘adult’ the jedi didn’t really value age as an indicator for ability, they tended to look at things like experience and skill as indicators for when one was considered ‘ready’ for most trials.

Since I had spent most of my knighthood running incredibly difficult missions on the outer rim, I would have been put in the potential master pool since the age of 23 making my current age and padawanless state an almost personal offence to Yoda, who had now made it his life’s mission to get me a child.

I underestimated him, no matter how far I ran or how little time I spent at the temple he still found a way to trap me and convey his disapproval of my life choices.

He was a master of the guilt trip and I’m sorry to say I caved.

I held out against the inevitable for 6 years but even I had my limits.

I went to the creche.

By this point Mace and Qui Gon were both about 9 and given my friendliness with the two of them many expected me to take one of them as my padawan. Unfortunately, while some part of me had considered taking one of them as my padawan I knew that they were already spoken for and the force itself was almost violently against it, apparently it knew a bad idea when it saw one.

So that left me at a bit of a loose end.

How do you even do this? It’s a child not a puppy what am I even supposed to look for beyond friendly and house trained?

Figuring I’d just wing it I closed my eyes and followed the force, which for the record (despite what the movies said) rarely solves any of your problems and just winds up with you puttering in circles like a lunatic.

And indeed, that was what seemed to be happening.

As I wandered aimlessly about the children’s/apprentice wing of the temple I was already making up my excuses for Yoda.

I wouldn’t take a padawan that didn’t want me or who I didn’t want, I wasn’t that desperate there were still places and people who would hide me from Yoda.

If I didn’t find anyone this time, then I would try again. I privately admitted that I would be a bit disappointed though. I’d seriously psyched myself up for this.

After 2 hours of wandering and pondering, I was just about call it quits and head back to the main temple when I heard a noise. A noise that sounded distinctly like bullying.

I sighed, If I could somehow roll my eyes at the force then they would have long ago fallen out of their sockets because really?

Figuring I would take the sign from the force for what it was I began moving slowly in that direction.

It might just be kids being shitty but honestly my life didn’t work like that.

Unsurprisingly the scene I found could have come straight out of a cartoon. The bullies were all at an age to be potential padawans and were stood in a loose semi-circle around a boy whose back was up against the wall.

What was interesting and tickled the back of my mind was that the boy in question was a Kel Dor.

The Kel Dor species were almost all force sensitive in some way and as a consequence their families very rarely felt the need to leave them at the temple. The species had their own traditions and methods of helping their sensitive young learn control and given how difficult life was for them in the wider galaxy they just never seemed to bother, and the Jedi left them alone for the same reason.

However, very occasionally the temple did get a request for us to go pick up a particularly powerful youngling or even rarer one was left it on the temple steps, this normally only happened if the family was poor, outcast or couldn’t return home for some reason.

As one of the very few species that couldn’t breathe in a human atmosphere and didn’t have a complete set of humanoid facial features, they tended to suffer on humanoid dominated worlds.

If there was one thing this galaxy was not it was hospitable to non-human species. If you weren’t at least humanoid, you became very limited very quickly, speeders, chairs, utensils, food, clothes, and a multitude of other things were only designed with humanoids, and specifically humans in mind and if you needed something different you had better be ready to pay for it.

Coruscant itself was notorious for its humans on top mindset and it was a sense the pervaded much of the galaxies thinking whether they realised it or not.

There was also the rampant discrimination and xenophobia that several worlds exhibited as a result of their development being interrupted by the early introduction of technology.

The Star Wars universe had never heard of the prime directive, and it hadn’t done anyone any favours.

It was fascinating to think on how those societies had been influenced and not the point of this original thought.

Bottom line I was surprised to see a Kel Dor initiate for many reasons.

Of course, I quickly moved into indignation when the bullies carried on their weak attempts at verbal harassment.

The Jedi were not perfect as adults or children.

“Why don’t you just give up Koon? You’ve got to know no Jedi master wants you by now. Who would want someone who can’t even smile or look them in the eye let alone a padawan who can’t form a proper training bond?”

The Kel Dor just stood there, and it was true the goggles and mask that protected him from our toxic atmosphere didn’t leave much room for facial expression, but it wasn’t a deal breaker, several species didn’t place as much emphasis on facial expressions as humans do.

I mean, have you ever tried to read the facial expression of a Wookie? It all just reads as pissed off bear.

“Yeah, you’re so creepy and no one’s going to want to touch your slimy mind to form a bond. You’re so desperate, not even the Agricorps is going to want you.”

That was reprehensible.

Kel Dors were all force sensitive which meant they formed bonds with others of their species much more easily than humans conversely, they struggled to bond with other species due to general mind related incompatibilities.

They could do it but it took time and work and there was nothing wrong with that.

Many in the temple took bonds for granted but as someone who had never been able to feel another person in their head, bonds were special and sacred no matter how easily they formed.

Having to work at one shouldn’t matter, everything worth having to work.

A bond was important and certainly not something to be thrown around as petty insults.

My training bond with Yoda was one of the most special things I’ve ever had despite it taking months to form.

At this point I realised what I was doing, making excuses for why the boy should still be a padawan was a rather sure sign I was in deep shit.

It didn’t help that the boy didn’t say anything to defend himself just clenched his fists atb his side and hunched even further into himself.

Despite the eye covers I got the feeling he was crying.

Okay. That was enough of that.

Shifting, I made myself as intimidating as possible and deliberately and loudly made my way around the corner.

Every single child jumped about a foot in the air.

“And what is going on here?” I asked as imperiously as I could which, after some practice with Yan was pretty damn demanding.

The change in the children was almost nostalgic. The bullies’ eyes became wide and innocent, and the lead boy hunched his shoulders shyly and looked up at me from below his lashes.

The face of a perfectly innocent child.

I’m onto you, you little shit I invented that look.

“Sorry Master, Plo was just lost, and we were helping him get back to the clan.”

Wait a second Plo? As in Plo Koon the future councillor? From the clone wars? The best dad?

No fucking way.

Absolutely not. I refuse.

…

…

I suppose that with a child Mace and Qui Gon running around it was time to start seeing some familiar faces but still, how did I not know he was here? Have I really been that caught up in my work?

The boy in question flinched, his head tilted downwards.

“It didn’t look like you were being very helpful, what with him being surrounded and all.”

The tension went up a notch. How much did I want to drag this out?

Looking at Plo, who was somehow managing to still make himself physically smaller I decided to leave it.

…

For now.

“I’ll take it from here, go back to your clan master.”

The kids had become steadily more tense as I spoke and at the dismissal they scurried away. The leader cast a backwards glance towards Plo and then disappeared leaving us alone.

Awkward silence descended. It’s amazing how someone can convey how distressed they are through body language alone. Plo was probably one misstep off hyperventilating and to be honest I thought I might just join him.

Alas being the adult in this situation it was up to me to be responsible.

I knelt down. Talking at eye level was important with kids, wasn’t it?

It seemed to make Plo even more nervous if the squeak he let out past his voice coder was any indication.

I did my best to look into his eyes, covered though they were and gave him my most winningest smile.

“You’re okay right? Whatever those guys said wasn’t true okay, they’re just scared they won’t get chosen and are taking it out on you.”

...

I am not good with children unless they are napping. Having only been a real child once a long, long time ago and in a different universe I don’t have a great recollection or frame of reference for interaction.
I have been reliably informed by Rael that Yan and Yoda are not great examples for social convention but surely you can’t go wrong with blunt honesty?

How did I forget that I’m shit with kids?

“I know”

It was barely more than whisper

“But it doesn’t change the fact that nobody wants me because I’m too difficult.”

My heart. My poor black heart.

Surely that wasn’t true.

The Plo Koon from the series was an absolute badass and a Jedi councillor someone must have taken him.

A thought struck me. What if my presence had made it so his master didn’t take him? What if I’d inadvertently ruined this kids’ life?

How was I supposed to know? How do you tell? What could I do?

This was the reason why I didn’t want to change things.

I dragged myself back to the moment. Plo first, breakdown later.

“I’m sure that’s not true kid. I’m not good at this but I’m sure there must be a master out there for you.”

There had to be.

“I’m turning 13 in a couple of months. It’s too late, no one will choose me.”

“Hey, don’t go giving up yet, there’s still time.”

What a pathetic platitude. I know exactly what I would have thought about someone telling me those words and it wouldn’t have been very Jedi like.

Plo didn’t answer but I could almost feel the disbelief and tentsion radiating off him.

My heart gave another twitch.

Would he appreciate a hug? I could do hugs.

I didn’t get the chance to ask as Plo started walking.

Well then…

One awful silent walk later we reached the door to the initiates building, I laid a hand on Plo’s head in a facsimile of a hair ruffle.

“Don’t give up just yet kid. It’ll work out.”

Again, another platitude I’m sure Plo didn’t appreciate.

He didn’t say anything as we parted, and my infernal heart twitched again.

As I walked down the corridor there was an internal war raging inside me. Part of me wanted to turn around right then and there, to sweep Plo into a hug and ask him to be my padawan, to take him and run off to a random planet and protect him from everyone. The other part of me which sounded suspiciously like Yan told me to get a grip and think things through.

A padawan not a puppy.

Is this what I’m supposed to do? Is this what I can change?

It’s not necessarily a big change but I had obviously fucked something up somewhere already.

It’s not Killing Palpating or saving Dooku bit it’s a start.

The force sings in my head and I sigh, guess that answers one question.

Obviously Plo’s needs would be different to that of the average padawan, but I think I can manage…
Maybe

He doesn’t deserve to be left alone and the future would be worse if he wasn’t in it.

Alright mind decided.

Do I have any idea on the best way to look after a young Kel Dor?

No.

Is it going to stop me doing my best?

No.

Now what to do. How does one actually go about getting a padawan once they have made a decision?

Do I just take him from the crèche and be like ‘this is mine now, bye.’

Amusing mental image aside it was time to get a move on, there’s a Kel Dor master somewhere in the order for me to find.

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.”

Chapter Text

I want to go on record and state that teenage Plo Koon is the cutest thing in this galaxy and will remain so until there is a tiny baby Obi-Wan running around the creche.

I’ve had him for half an hour now and if anything were to happen to him, I will go full Anakin Skywalker on this temple.

He deserves all the hugs.

It’s definitely been worth the several weeks’ worth of work, negotiation and screaming that’s brought me to this point.

Master Kilun had been positively dubious about my intention to take Plo as my padawan and after about an hours’ worth of conversation outlining all the reasons, I shouldn’t do what he thought was stupid thing I eventually put my foot down.

I was set on this and no one sans maybe the Grand master himself for stop me. I had spent 24 years of my life determined not to change the future. I had avoided friends, connections, and potential plot like the plague and only reason I had changed my mind was the force doing the mental trauma equivalent of smashing me violently over the head with a hammer.

It was kind of hard to ignore what it wanted from me after my knight trials.

Not that I haven’t tried.

Now I’ve decided to make a change absolutely no one is going to stop me.

This is the way.

Anyway, master Kilun had tested my resolve and since I was still there even after all his arguments, he began to take me seriously.

It took a while.

He told me I needed to change almost my entire way of living and I just couldn’t help but think that Jedi masters were just so dramatic.

I mean what else would I expect, this wasn’t like getting a goldfish, I was picking up a kid with the intention of keeping him for at least 10 years and beyond, of course my life was going to change.

I expected it, it’s why I waited until I was 26.

Not that I didn’t understand where he was coming from as well. There is a difference between making sure you can cook more than burnt toast and stop coming home with your hook ups and changing the entire breathable atmosphere in your living quarters but go big or go home.

I think he was trying to protect Plo in the best way he knew how, if I took Plo and couldn’t stick it then I wasn’t the one who was going to suffer. The other masters would probably just roll their eyes and grumble about me being too ambitious, I would be allowed another padawan and everything would continue.

It wouldn’t be like that for Plo.

If I took him and then decided to end our training not only would his dreams be cruelly cut off through no fault of his own, but he would lose a training bond he desperately needed as well as losing his place here at the temple because most masters wouldn’t look twice at someone whose first master rejected them.

It was awful but it was true.

Everything would be worse for Plo if this didn’t work out.

Thankfully something must have convinced the Jedi master that I could be trusted (not that he would have had a say either way if Plo still said yes). I got as much information as I could as well as an offer to continue meeting and took off to find Yoda.

If master Kilum was a hard sell the council was probably going to be a nightmare and I would require serious back up. Thankfully my teacher happens to be the Grandmaster and no matter what everyone likes to believe nepotism is very much a thing in the Jedi order.

I found him in the gardens.

“Speak to me you wish my young padawan.”

“Yes master. I have settled on a padawan of my own.” Straight out with it.

“Joyous news this is, but not all you wanted to say to me. No?”

I was getting the Yoda equivalent of a raised eyebrow.

“The boy is a Kel Dor master and while I do not doubt this is the right action in the eyes of the force, I seek your approval.”

I was definitely getting the eyebrow now.

“Do you indeed.”

I blinked. What did that even mean?

“Master?”

“Seek my wisdom you do not. Seek my approval you do not, decided you already are, plans you have already made.”

I shuffled guiltily. That was true but I didn’t appreciate being called out on it.

“Stubborn you are my padawan, stubborn you have always been. Once decided, your path you do not change. A trait you and Yan both share. A trait my lineage will always share. ”

Oh boy. He did not know how true those words were. Yoda was in for a wild ride in the future if he thought me and Yan were the pinnacle of stubbornness.

It could be argued that every single issue caused by Yoda’s disaster lineage could be attributed to stubbornness. Count Dooku and Qui Gon being the first people I thought about but Obi-Wan and Anakin were as bad. Fuck, Obi-wan had lived through hell, fought a war, survived a genocide, fought his student, lived alone for 20 years in a desert, and still went back for one more round.

If that’s not stubbornness I don’t know what is.

And Anakin that crazy bastard committed to his path so hard he went from war hero to insane child murderer in what was probably less than 48 hours and then he stayed that way until his equally insane boss was going to kill his son.

However, all that aside Yoda is not wrong. I know it, he knows it the only people who wouldn’t grasp the concept were currently filling the uncomfortable chairs in the high council board room.

He was right I wasn’t truly looking for his approval. Plo Koon was going to be my padawan come hell or high water.
Of course, just because I didn’t need it didn’t mean I didn’t want it, everything would be a million times worse if Yoda wasn’t on my side.
Was it stubborn and arrogant of me to think I was the best person to be Plo’s master? Absolutely.

But…

I think I finally understood Qui-Gon’s reaction to Anakin. To find someone so right in the force, who was meant to be a Jedi, who was hurt by others through no fault of their own, with the force practically screaming this person is important to the future.

It was undeniable. (Of course, I still wouldn’t forgive him for what he did to Obi-Wan.)

Plo Koon didn’t have to be my padawan, it would hurt but I would accept that, but he did have to be trained and if no one else was willing to even try then it would have to be me.

Ready or not.

I sat down beside him and closed my eyes reaching out through the force.
“That’s true master, however just because I don’t need your approval doesn’t mean I don’t seek it and more than that I would like your support.”

He hummed and reached back to be.

“Important this boy is?”

“Yes, master the force is clear. My decision is clear. I may not be the best suited or the most experienced and if somebody else with a better understanding of young Plos’ species volunteers I will concede but I am willing to make the effort. He needs training and I want to train him.”

Yoda hummed again.

“A difficult task you have chosen…See your preparations I will, speak to master Kilum also. Meet this boy I wish. Judge his presence in the force I will. Then you will have my support.”

But perhaps not his approval?

I didn’t know. Yoda almost always did and said everything on purpose but what that purpose was anyone’s guess.
I decided not to look too deep, that Yoda was going to support me was enough and I got the general sense that it wasn’t Plo he disapproved of but me taking such a difficult padawan straight out of the gate.

I could really fuck this up and the fallout wouldn’t be pretty for anyone.

Of course, Yoda was only half of the battle albeit the half I was most concerned about, next came convincing the high council.

Thankfully I was well armoured and well prepared to cut down any of their many, many arguments.

At this point I had heard every single little detail that could go wrong between me and Plo and a great many of them were species relevant however, there were other reasons to add to the list.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t realised just how well known I had become in the order and in the galaxy. I mean I wasn’t Kardashian famous but if people were asked to name a Jedi mine was one of the names that came frequently to their lips. I was one of the most recognised faces in the order outside of the temple.

I did not appreciate this fact, but it was compounded by the other very real problem, my work was dangerous and important.

Important enough that me dropping out of regular rotation to mentor a padawan was going to cause a few problems. I had wrapped up the majority of the more sensitive stuff I’d been apart of before coming back to the temple in anticipation of gaining a padawan however I got the feeling nobody had actually expected me to choose one.

I wasn’t indispensable of course, the Jedi while not as prolific as they had been, was still a fairly large organisation but I was very good at what I did, and I had contacts and rapport that new knights and masters wouldn’t have.
Truly I think everyone would have appreciated it more if I’d just shut up and chosen a generic human padawan or better yet not chosen one at all.

Plo was becoming smaller and smaller at my side as the councillors argued, I wish I had left him in our rooms, he didn’t need to hear this.

Thankfully, I was prepared, confident and fully willing to use my fame and lineage to my advantage, regardless of what most of them actually thought of me I was officially a ‘successful, diplomatic, distinguished knight’ who was apparently ‘a credit to the Jedi order’.

Plo would be my padawan.

My mounting frustration was beginning to saturate the force and right before I blew my top Yoda decided to intervene.

“Matter our opinions do not. Believe Knight Ki’ra can care for young Plo I do. Master knight Ki’ra will be.”

“Objections, have you?”

Guess we did have his approval after all.

That was obviously rhetorical and wisely none of the other councillors disagreed.

I hated this iteration of the council but not for the reasons you might think, Jedi have their pros and cons, but the council was never actually all that bad and bashing them wasn’t my intention, day to day they worked, it was just the unexpected that threw them for a loop.

The council and Jedi in general hated anything that caught them off guard and attempted to force a commitment from them before they had a chance to mull it over.

They made me think of the Ents from Lord of the Rings.

Which to be honest was kind of fair, if the future taught me anything its that Jedi dis not make good life decisions under pressure, lots of life’s problems could have been saved if everyone had sat down and thought about their life choices before committing.

If Mace Windu had stopped and had a nap before confronting Palpatine, if Anakin had had a chance to think things through before, during and after that entire encounter or hell, if anyone had sat down for a moment and pondered the incredibly suspicious origins of the clone army things might have been different.

Anyway, the current council was old and fastidious, used to taking their time to cover every angle and make a truly informed decision. Applying pressure or springing an issue on them (like a force sensitive 9-year-old prophecy child) just made them more obstinate and unlikely to commit to a decision, normally I would have presented the issue to them and then waited them out, giving them time to meditate and think it through, but I wasn’t willing to let them refuse this.

I said pressure didn’t usually work but that’s a bit of a lie, pressure works but only if you have the weight to throw around and are fully willing to throw an absolutely spectacular public bitch fit ( cough, cough Qui Gon Jinn).

Of course, some of those speaking did have legitimate concerns which I addressed, in fact, the whole point of this meeting being so that I could address them.

I expected to have to assure them I was capable of looking after Plo it was expected he was a child, and I was new to being a master.

What I hated was that after they had allowed me to address the legitimate concerns everything had devolved into them arguing between themselves leading to everything only getting resolved when Yoda made the already forgone decision.

They argued pointlessly and then shut up the second Yoda banged his stick.

It was weak, it was stupid, it was unfair to Yoda to have to make these decisions for the order and it wasn’t smart to leave him in charge of everything.

Deep down I knew I was harbouring some fanon/canon related prejudices. The council were part of the reason Yan left and Sifo Dyas went mad (I forgot he was a person until I saw him with Yan, and I have no idea what to do with that) and their complacency in this era made it easy for the Sith and senate to screw with the Jedi in the future.

I didn’t doubt that it would get better in the coming years. Mace and all the other named Star Wars characters would rise up and form a half decent council eventually, but it would be too little too late.

There was nothing I could do about it either at least until I became a master and some of them died.

Bit dark but then so is the future.

Anyway, Yoda had put his stick down, the council shut up and Plo was officially my padawan.

What was I supposed to do now?

Chapter Text

I know I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again teenage Plo Koon is a delight.

He was also a bit concerning.

When I asked Plo to do something he did it, immediately, with a cute little bow and a ‘yes master’ or ‘of course master’. Whatever I asked of him he did to perfection, never skipped out or took a short cut and when we went for sabre practice, he practically hung off my every word like it had come straight from the mouth of the force.

It was a little disturbing and uncomfortably close to hero worship. I was experimenting with just how boring I could make something before I lost his attention, surely no one can sit through an hour lecture on Shi Cho and its applications before the Russan reformation.
Fuck it, even I was bored during that, and I was giving the lecture. Saints couldn’t have sat through it without falling asleep and yet 13-year-old Plo Koon kept looking at me as if it was the most important thing he had ever heard.

What the fuck did I do?

This was not one of the problems I was prepared to face.

It didn’t help that everyone else found my struggle amusing.

No one had any good advice beyond ‘just give him time and he’ll see how much of a human disaster you actually are’.

Time was the only answer, and it was grating. All I could do was take a deep breath and push through my own discomfort and tried to humanise myself in Plos eyes by being as casual and present as possible around him.

It worked to a degree, it is hard to continue to idolise someone who leaves dishes in the sink to ‘soak’ for a week and doesn’t put away clean laundry until the floor is full of dirty stuff and they need the bag.
Unfortunately, while this took the edge off Plo still remained steadfast in his adoration and after meditating on it for a while I kind of understood why.

Currently I was Plos lifeline and one that, based on his previous experiences, he thought would disappear at the first sign of trouble. He thought I would abandon him for anything less than perfection.
I wouldn’t.

As my current situation on the timeline front shows I’m the kind of person that holds on and never let’s go. I am quite literally trying to change the fate of the universe for count Dooku of all people!
Plo was my padawan and I would do everything in my power to stop his fate. My cute, friendly, eager to please padawan was not going to die alone betrayed by his friends.

No one was going to die…

…

Okay some people probably would, and they would probably deserve it, but I’d do my best.

I knew eventually Plo would see that I wouldn’t just leave when he made a mistake and if he couldn’t believe my words alone then I would prove myself in action.

The problem was that I needed a scenario where I could prove myself, and with Plo the way he was it was becoming obvious I would have to wait.

It took 6 months before I took action to force the issue.

Outside of the hero worship I had actually been paying attention to Plo and what he actually needed to advance as a padawan and one thing that concerned me above all others was his lack of aggressiveness.

Plo was a truly, genuinely gentle soul. He rose above the level of bullies and didn’t fight back, always calm and patient even with those who didn’t deserve it, a commendable quality in a Jedi unfortunately, these character traits began manifesting in sabre combat.
While not rising to your enemies’ taunts was important Plo took it too far when he consistently failed to take advantage of weaknesses given to him.

He sometimes hesitated to capitalise on his enemies’ disadvantages while they ruthlessly exploited his and it cost him. While his katas and technical skills were perfect for his age his sparring record was rather abysmal.

Things couldn’t stay that way.

My job as a knight was dangerous, I wasn’t necessarily Obi-Wan Kenobi or Qui-Gon Jinn, but I did manage to encounter trouble fairly frequently and the galaxy was steadily becoming a more hostile place. This was the galaxy we lived in now.

Not to even think about the future.

Plo needed to learn how to fight, and I needed to learn how to fight with him. I had been putting off going into the field properly since I choose Plo as my padawan because I wanted him to be ready, but I now realised that I couldn’t teach Plo aggression.
He needed stakes and consequences and while I was loath to essentially ruin a piece of his innocence the pressure was mounting for me to get back into the field.

I was important, in this Jedi order without legendary masters such as Mace, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon I was considered one of the best fighters and one of the most well-known faces, I couldn’t put it off anymore.
Outside of the pressure I also acknowledged that mine and Plo's relationship as master and padawan wasn’t going to develop if I kept us in the temple, thankfully something came up that I thought would help.

The will of the force at work.

The mission was about negotiating a controversial trade deal on a small planet in the outer rim. I had been there before the locals were friendly enough, but I didn’t doubt for one second that there wouldn’t be some combat on this mission. They were friendly but stubborn and the point of requesting a Jedi for the mission was that there was a rebel faction involved.

Now when I watched Star Wars, I gave the Jedi order grief for taking children into active war zones and dangerous situations and part of me was very upset that that was what I was planning on doing.

I mean, fuck, the point of me taking this mission was so that Plo could actually see combat, but it couldn’t be helped, and I did my homework.

Firstly, the planet was poor and fairly primitive, any weapons we encountered would be cheap and ultimately no match for a light sabre. Secondly despite his lack of aggression Plo was incredibly well trained, he was an excellent swordsman and with a Kel Dorians’ natural strength advantage he was pretty good at hand to hand, I and some other masters had assessed his ability and decided that he was capable of defending himself and others should the need arise.

Thirdly and perhaps most importantly the planet we were going to value their young very highly. According to their culture Plo was a child and while it wouldn’t be enough to stop any attacks, I was confident no one would deliberately target Plo as a weakness against me. In fact, I doubted anyone would target him period and that they would probably go out of their way to avoid catching him in the fighting.

If I died, they also wouldn’t hurt or kill Plo and would ultimately probably send him back unharmed to the temple.

A morbid thought and a depressing plan but one I was sure of.

It wasn’t perfect and I still felt guilt and a strange sense of grief over what I was planning but it needed to be done. I was needed back in the field, Plo needed to see real combat and to start learning life’s lessons and this was the most controlled way I could think of to start.
Hey, at least I wasn’t planning to leave him on a planet torn apart by a civil war a la Qui-Gon.

It’s always nice to clear and incredibly low bar.

Ultimately everything planned out as expected… mostly…

The first minor issue was that I hadn’t really considered the logistics of travelling with someone who couldn’t breathe the atmosphere. I mean I had been told by numerous people that it would be a problem but it didn’t really compute until we were stood on the planet and the only place Plo could eat was on the ship.

Most of the more advanced planets would be able to accommodate and provide a room to suite Plos needs but this far into the outer rim it wasn’t really an option. Our ship was capable of providing a room, which explains why he was a pilot in the original timeline, but as far as the planet went that was the only place he could take off the mask, which in turn meant that Plo was incapable of eating with our hosts.
Not a problem on this planet but it was something to consider, for some of the cultures in the galaxy it could be taken as a grave insult.
Not to mention if something happened to the ship or Plo got stranded somewhere without access to a nitrogen-based atmosphere he wouldn’t be able to eat anything and would be far more susceptible to hunger and dehydration.

Worrying and definitely something I would need contingencies for.

Many, many, contingences.

Outside of that terrifying realisation the mission happened exactly as I predicted, and we were attacked right on schedule during the second night of negotiations.

Sometimes I wish the universe wasn’t so predictable.

Anyway, we were attacked, I expected it and responded appropriately springing into action in true Jedi style.

Cape drop, dramatic lightsabre stance and witty banter.

I realised I had been very bored staying at the temple.

Of course, the whole point in this mission was Plo getting to experience a bit of action so as I drew the bulk of the rebels towards me, I left Plo with the diplomats and a couple of enemies.

Is it wrong to risk people’s lives just so Plo could gain experience and I could evaluate his performance?

Probably.

Did I care?

Not really.

It turns out your conscience is a lot easier to ignore when you’re releasing all of your guilt and worry into the force. Those emotions are important for knowing if a plan is ethically and morally sound and simply ignoring them and releasing them under the justification of it ‘being for the best’ is a slippery slope, especially if things worked out in your favour anyway.

I needed to spend more time with non-force sensitives.

Either way Plo was doing well, and I was close enough to catch anything that might go wrong, not to brag or anything, but these guys simply didn’t require all my attention and were only still standing so I could observe Plo.

I truly thought he would be fine, hesitating in the temple was one thing the stakes weren’t real and for a gentle soul like Plo nothing there was worth hurting anyone. Out here in the field I truly believed Plo would be able to overcome his hesitation and win his fight without intervention.

I was wrong.

I had taken out most of the men and I watched as Plo expertly disarmed his assailant except….

As the man deliberately collapsed to the floor, Plo, instead of finishing the fight hesitated and the man rolled and pulled out a blaster.
I thought for on heart stopping moment I had misjudged and that the man was going to shoot my padawan at point blank range.

I’d caught the man’s ploy and Plos hesitation, the men I was fighting were dispatched within an instant and I was moving.

The man didn’t shoot Plo but he did shoot straight over his shoulder at the lead diplomat.

I barely made the save in time especially because a second shot rang out from a different direction. All my attention had been on Plo and the heart stopping moment I thought I was going to lose him, the manoeuvre I had to perform to reorient myself to protect the diplomat was incredibly awkward and meant that the second shot was blocked with my shoulder rather than my lightsabre.

Incidentally not an idea I would recommend.

I watched as this time Plo didn’t hesitate lightsabre coming down and swiftly divesting the man of his hand.

That’s the thing about lightsabres you see,, they are not a merciful weapon. A lightsabre, even a padawans first lightsabre like Plo was wielding was a devastating weapon. Plo’s lightsabre at the lowest setting would only leave a light burn and then at every setting higher would leave increasingly damaging results.

The problem is that burns are not really a good way to stop a determined person from fighting, they hurt like a bitch, but they rarely cause someone to lose consciousness and they don’t lend themselves to restraining an opponent say the way a blaster set to stun does.
In real combat a lightsabre would therefore be used at the higher levels.

We are talking instant limb removal and cauterisation.

This meant that a lightsabre used in proper life or death combat was a life altering weapon even if the opponent survived the severing of their limbs or the instantly cauterized stabbing. Knocking someone out with a lightsabre is incredibly difficult and often not worth the risk.
When you drew your lightsabre, you effectively accepted that you were likely to kill the other party or at least ruin their life.

This is what you had to accept and while Plo’s reluctance was a credit to his personality if he couldn’t bring himself to wield a lightsabre and accept the consequences then his future as a knight was limited.

I couldn’t help but think about the countless other fictional mentors that I’d judged for their inability to raise a child, the ones that forced a good, well-meaning protagonist to grow into something they weren’t meant to be in order to ready them for the future.
I understood that need and sacrifice on a level I really didn’t appreciate.

I understood why the Plo Koon of the future was more of a pilot.

Unfortunately for Plo that wasn’t the kind of knight I was and if Plo wanted to be a knight this was an ugly awful part of that reality.
After the fight had finished Plo came to me. Its normally very hard to interpret Plo’s feelings, he hadn’t learned how to project properly through body language yet and while I would teach him, I thought his inherent unreadableness would be useful however, now his distress was obvious. Hunched shoulders, lowered head and he curled in on himself like he just wanted to disappear.

If Kel Dorians could cry Plo would be bawling. I could feel his terror and horror through the bond. The diplomat had nearly died, I had been shot and Plo was technically at fault.

It was with a bitter sour taste in my mouth that I acknowledged that the lesson I was hoping to teach had been taught.

The adrenaline ran out and I realised I was so tired.

My shoulder hurt.

But I took a deep breath, sent the strongest feeling of peace I could muster down the bond and knelt down before Plo.

“It’s okay. I’m okay and we’ll talk about it later, alright?”

I got a hesitant nod of his head and stood again swiftly moving to consult the diplomats.

I was thanked for my service and commended on my quick action. At least these were the kind of people to acknowledge that I had saved their lives at the expense of my own health, and no-one seemed interested in pointing out Plo’s mistake.

All’s well that ends well was the vibe I got.

Small mercies.

Chapter Text

It took me a lot longer to get to Plo than I would have liked. First of all, I had been shot and while not life threatening exactly it was something that needed looking at. I didn’t think it needed looking at that exact moment, but the resident healer pinned me down like an expert predator and fleeing quickly became out of the question.

I am a good Jedi; I respect my healers who only have my wellbeing in mind.

…

They are so scary, I have no choice.

The last time I made a Brooklyn 99 reference about internal bleeding being a good thing I got one of the longest lectures of my life and Healer Cha locked me in the medical ward for a month.

Nobody understands me anymore, the last time I tried to reference a meme I almost got committed to the Jedi mind healers.

Anyway…

Apparently being hit on my unprotected shoulder was a bigger deal than films and TV shows made it out to be, there’s a lot of important arteries and things up there that don’t take well to a blaster bolt.

I told the healer that next time I would do my best to get hit in the abdomen.

Needless to say, she did not appreciate my humour either. Neither did Plo.

Perhaps it was in poor taste.

Either way, after escaping the healers and the well-meaning but irritating politicians all I wanted to do was fall face first on the bed and sleep until the world had realigned itself.

As it was all I could do was enter out temporary accommodation and take a deep breath, for a moment I was dizzyingly thankful that this room was human standard and not Kel Dor.

I was never going to try and engineer a situation like this again. The few milliseconds I thought that bastard was going to shoot Plo were not worth the inevitable character development.

Lesson learned.

Next time everything went to shit it would be as the force intended, completely accidental and outside of my control.

The consequences of my poor life choices were standing next to me, Plo was absolutely still and absolutely radiating guilt, fear, and self-loathing.

My fault.

After taking a second to myself, I did the first thing that came to my very tired mind.

I knelt down and with little to no warning pulled Plo into the best hug I was capable of giving, complete with opening our bond and flooding it with my feelings of relief and happiness as well as something I’m not comfortable putting a name to.

As a rule, Jedi didn’t typically hug. It wasn’t forbidden or anything but our upbringing and focus on emotional control tended to leave many Jedi as awkward turtle ducks when it came to physical affection.
We tended to express our feelings of affection in other ways, acts of services was a common one but very rarely did Jedi tend towards physical displays of affection and I was no exception to the rule.

Not in either life.

Still, I could recognise someone who was desperately in need of a hug and from the way Plo practically dissolved into his species equivalent of a crying, snot filled break down, I knew I was right.

Honestly, although not every problem can be solved with a hug, I did think that the Star Wars universe might have been a bit of a softer place if everyone had hugged someone who clearly needed one.

Jedi affection needed to be interpreted and understood for its full effect and when you’re emotionally distraught or inept that’s kind of hard to do, a hug is difficult to misunderstand especially when it’s accompanied by feelings in the force.

It was also easier for people to breakdown on you.

With Plo there was a moment of shock and panic followed by absolute disbelief and finally a wave of mixed emotions so strong they took my breath away.

Plo’s breakdown went on for about 20 minutes but eventually his shoulders stopped shaking and his emotions calmed leaving a hollow but cathartic emptiness.

He had also fallen asleep.

Thank fuck.

The hug was one thing but tackling the emotional issues that were bound to spring from this ill-advised venture was an entirely different beast. While improvising and trying to be as emotionally open as possible had been working up till now, it was tiring, and it took me almost physical effort to open myself up to Plo.

I hated emotional intimacy. Yoda and Yan Dooku were my mentors and despite their best efforts I still didn’t really have friends. Emotional openness wasn’t really a thing we all did, (at least not without alcohol) we simply sniped at one another in a veiled attempt to assess each other’s well-being.

I know that’s part of the whole issue everybody had in Star Wars, witty banter is not a substitute for open communication but…

It was hard.

Unfortunately, Plo needed something different and while I would do my best the last week had shown that maybe it wasn’t good enough…

…

…

Whose bright idea was it to put me in charge of a child?

…

I needed sleep.

I carefully gathered Plo up, thankfully he was dead to the world and staggered over his bed. For a 14-year-old he was heavy and lanky, he would eventually reach over 6foot and his biology was denser than that of a baseline human, it was lucky I could still lift him with a bit of an assist from the force.

Putting him down I realised that we had never had a naptime in the gardens. I used to do naptime with my creche mates and Yoda all the time.

As I took off Plos boots I couldn’t help smiling ruefully, I guess being a Jedi Knight had changed me more than I realised.

That would change.

This mission had taught me rather a lot about attachment and other things I was going to have to meditate thoroughly on, maybe I would talk to a healer about some of it, Yan and Yoda were certainly not options.

As I made to move away Plos clawed hand snapped out wrapping firmly around my wrist.

Poking it I realised our bond was a little bit strained from all the emotional vomit that happened earlier.

I was so tired, maybe this wasn’t the room of a thousand fountains, but I did get the feeling it was probably the start of mine and Plos true trial as a master/padawan pair.

I laid down, Plo instinctively curling towards me seeking comfort, reminding me that his people were very social and bond oriented.

There was going to be a lot to deal with tomorrow, but it was definitely tomorrows problem.

Chapter Text

Plo Koon came back into awareness slowly, he was warm and comfortable, sleeping on bed softer than the ones at the temple. He briefly debated rising, but he so rarely got a chance to lie in past sunrise and he was so tired from whatever he had been doing yesterday, surely if his master needed him, they would come to wake him.

With a course of action decided he determinedly closed his eyes again shifting his body towards the warmth he was wrapped around and tightened his arms.

His pillow moved.

Plo froze, was he in bed with someone? What the hell had happened yesterday?

Reality was reasserted with a swift and brutal reminder of the previous day’s events.

His eyes flew open, and they met the still slumbering face of his master, whom, he realised to his embarrassment he was clinging to like a favored stuffed toy.

His first instinct to jerk away was swiftly followed by the counter instinct to freeze solidly in place and never move again.

What had he done?

He had screwed up so bad.

He had hesitated to finish the fight with the protester, gotten his master shot, proceeded to have a horrifically emotional breakdown, collapsed on his wounded master, and then to top off his list of failures he had forced his master to carry him to bed where he vaguely remembered begging them to stay with him.

There were younglings who displayed greater emotional control.

Over the last several months and missions Plo had gradually grown comfortable with his rather unconventional master, he had started to believe the reassurances and promises that he wouldn’t be abandoned, that he was a good padawan but now…
If there was ever a deal breaker it was Plo’s display last night.

A mistake in the field could be forgiven (even if it was one his master had been trying to rectify for most of his apprenticeship) things happened when people were learning. His mistake was big, but his master had acquitted him well, no one was dead, the clients were happy, and the treaty was intact, he could be forgiven for his lapse.

However, the fact that his master got hurt because of his mistake was unforgivable, if they had been normal sentient that blaster shot might have killed them, energy weapons dispersed on impact and the shoulder was too close to the neck and head to be considered a safe place to get hit.

If they hadn’t been using force to mitigate the damage his master would have been dead, and it would have been Plo’s fault.

Unconsciously his grip tightened on master’sers’ robes.

Even if his master could forgive the near-death experience his later conduct was one of the most shameful things Plo could have done as a Jedi. He was supposed to be in control of his emotions no matter the circumstances, his master hadn’t even faltered in their serene countenance with a blaster bolt wound for goodness sake!

He had been so guilty and scared and had flooded the bond with his uncontrolled outburst, no master could forgive that.

But…

His master was still here, they had stayed when Plo had begged for comfort, they had hugged him and Plo forced himself to remember the feelings that had come through the bond.

None of them were negative. Just calm comfort and warm acceptance and Plo didn’t know what that meant.

Before he could ponder further, he jolted as a hand came up to rest on his head.

“Are you okay Plo?”
It was soft and Plo felt his throat constrict again but he wouldn’t cry in front of his master. Not again.

His master sighed, but before Plo could throw himself off the bed and into his apologies they shifted pulling him close again.

“It’s okay Plo. We’ll have a conversation about your fight when we are at the temple.”

Plo felt the bottom drop out of his world, but his master continued

“But for now, I want you to know you did extremely well considering the situation you were in. I’m sorry I forced you into a fight you weren’t ready for, but I want you to know that you did well and I’m proud of how you handled yourself.”

Plo didn’t know how to feel. Surely his master was joking. He had failed to protect the diplomat, and then had a spectacular breakdown unable to process his own failure, how was that handling himself well? Moreover, why was his master sorry? It wasn’t their fault that those rebels had attacked the treaty negotiations, they had saved him from his own mistake and protected all the diplomats.

They had been awesome. At no point during the confrontation had his master lost their vaunted Jedi calm. His master was fierce, strong and in control, everything a Jedi should be.

His master must have felt his incredulity and confusion because they sighed.

“All right let’s get dressed and have something to eat. We are in need of a conversation and some serious meditation. If we are going to have a heart-to-heart, then I need food, caf, and a shower. I absolutely hate talking about emotions and I’m not doing it on an empty stomach.”

Plo blinked a bit bemused at the change in topic, but his master was correct. He was still wearing his clothes from yesterday and his throat and eyes itched in a way that said he had been wearing his breathing gear for too long.

Food and caf sounded delightful.

During the search for food, they encountered multiple members of the diplomat’s retinue and to Plo’s happiness and his master’s horror all of them seemed intent upon singing his masters praises which was good, no matter what his master thought, fighting off multiple assailants almost single-handedly and then getting shot in the line of duty was heroic.

Like something straight out of a holonovel.

Pondering the thought of his master acting like some dashing Jedi knight, saving damsels, and riding off into the sunset in a ship while storytellers waxed poetic bought a smile to his face.

Almost as if they could tell what he was thinking his master scowled at him, they were definitely sensing his amusement down the bond.

Food obtained they both split to take a shower and change, Plo felt a lot more grounded now, but his anxiety began to creep up on him as their foretold meeting got closer. His master obviously wasn’t angry with him but his emotional outburst and loss of control where the bond was concerned would need to be addressed and he had no idea how his master would punish him.

When the time came, he went and sought his master out and after receiving permission to enter their room Plo sank to his knees and lowered his head, the proper position for a repentant padawan.

He heard his master shuffling around in the other room and waited, he knew the instant his master actually entered the room because it was heralded by a loud swear.

“Okay nope, I don’t care what the creche masters told you about proper padawan/master manners, but we are not doing that. I didn’t even do that for Yoda, and he is the Grandmaster of the order.”

Plo was beginning to get used to that feeling of bemusement that seemed to follow him ever since he became a padawan. Some traditions and manners his master was perfectly content and happy with while some got a more interesting reaction. The first time it had happened he had been terrified thinking he had offended his master but apparently, they just had some weird views and aversions to certain traditions that were unexplainable to normal people.

The kneeling thing always seemed to get a vaguely unhappy reaction no matter the purpose, the position was supposed to show that Plo was humble and contrite for his missteps during the mission and that he was there to seek his master’s guidance, being a Jedi meant maintain humility and being humble in the face of one’s mistakes.
Nevertheless, he rose to his feet he had long ago accepted that his master was an odd one. The fact that his master had never knelt in repentance for master Yoda was interesting, perhaps it was a lineage thing, he couldn’t see master Yan kneeling for anyone either.

Something to mediate on maybe.

His master gestured over to the table and both of them took a seat and his master shifted uncomfortably.

“Okay. The first thing I want to do is reiterate what I said this morning, up until the end of the fight you handled yourself well. You protected the diplomats excellently and didn’t lose your cool when things went downhill. You held onto your composure until we were alone, and I am proud of how you responded.”
Plo’s heart did the little twitch it always did when his master said those words, sometimes it felt like his master was forcing them out, not because they didn’t mean them but because they were almost physically painful to say.

Plo knew from his padawan friends that most Jedi didn’t hear them very often.

“That said” his master continued “we do need to talk about what happened, you hesitated at a crucial moment, and it could have had a very high cost.”

Plo lowered his head “I know master, I accept any punishment you deem appropriate” and he truly did.

His master sighed again, they seemed to be doing that a lot recently.

“It’s not about punishment it’s about what we need to work on. When we get back to the temple you will spend some time in meditation. I want you to evaluate the battle, I want you to think about where else you could have ended that fight, and then I want you to acknowledge that there was no other way of ending that fight without removing that man’s hand. Accepting that you must hurt others to save the people relying on you is one of the most difficult things you will have to do as Jedi. While things are fairly cut and dry here you will eventually come across a scenario where there are no right choices, and you will be forced to hurt someone whose only fault is being on the wrong side of the battle.”

Masters’ eyes had got a faraway look and Plo couldn’t help but wonder about what difficult decisions his master had made. Whom had they hurt in order to protect the people relying on them?

“In addition, when we get back, I am going to put you through so many Soresu katas you aren’t going to be able to feel your arms for a week. My heart was going to stop when I thought that man was going to shoot you.”

Master had a wry grin on their face as they spoke, but their eyes were serious, the casual admittance of fear spoke of attachment, but Plo couldn’t bring himself to care, he knew his master cared for him, but it was always nice for it to be confirmed in words.

“Also…” his master hesitated clearly debating what they were going to say next. “If you wanted, I could teach you how to wield a weapon other than a lightsabre.”

What?

That was surprising and unexpected even for his master. Jedi used lightsabres it was a fact of the universe. Tatooine was sandy, water was wet, and Jedi almost exclusively used lightsabre combat. Very few Jedi ever entertained the notion of using other ‘uncivilized’ weapons and those that did tend to be Jedi shadows who need to know for undercover work. Using any other weapon in combat was highly discouraged and frowned upon, his master was already considered odd for the emphasis they had put on hand-to-hand combat.

“Yeah…I mean you don’t have to, but I figure your problem with the lightsabre is that it’s two settings are seriously injured and dead which is a fair issue to have. If you want, I’ll teach you how to use something a little less lethal and easier to disguise. If I start taking up some of my old mission types again, lightsabres aren’t always going to be an option and something like a blaster offers range, versatility, and subtly in a way a glowing plasma sword just doesn’t. I wasn’t going to offer until you were a little older but if you want to learn it would make me feel safer. You’ll still have to get over your hesitation problem but…”

His master was rambling, which was not something they were prone to, so Plo took a moment to appreciate this rare moment of weakness.

His master was the absolute best, and he would fight anyone who dared say otherwise.

In the meantime, he spoke
“I would like that master.”

His master seemed infinitely relieved.

“Okay then heart to heart over, well done that was barely painful, let’s go find our diplomat and et this shows back on the road.”

“Master what about my other failure?” Plo was confused

His master tilted their head, apparently, they were confused as well “What other failure?”

“My shameful lack of emotional control last night.”

Surely his master hadn’t forgotten for Plo that was potentially the worst mistake he had made yesterday, it was disgraceful.

His master looked at him, groaned and then slumped back down into the chair.

“Damn, I almost got away without speaking about our feelings.

Okay, Plo I am about to tell you the most blasphemous thing you’ve probably ever heard come out of the mouth of a Jedi. What happened last night was not wrong or shameful. You’re a teenager who just had a traumatic experience, you got to a safe space and lost your cool and that is all that matters.

You did everything right until the very end and punishing you for being overwhelmed by your emotions in this context is wrong. You had feelings but you kept yourself together and you dealt with them in a non-destructive way and in my experience that is the best a Jedi can do. If you had hurt another in your fear of me getting hurt or stopped defending those who needed you for a similar reason this would be a very different discussion, but you didn’t. The nuance is that even though you lost control of your emotions at the end of the night not once did you allow them to cloud your judgment, which is something we all need to be mindful of and I nearly fell prey to myself.”

His master took a deep breath and gathered themselves, voice and eyes softening.

“That is the reason we teach emotional control and discipline. Part of your meditation period will be devoted to dissecting your emotions and releasing them into the force, it is important to understand them so that when we feel them again, we know how they can affect our reactions. On this I would encourage you to seek out other perspectives, while we all follow the code every Jedi has a slightly different interpretation of how to deal with emotion and it will be up to you to decide on how you feel, several tenets of the code can be this way.”

Plo could do nothing but nod his head, he wasn’t entirely sure he agreed with his master. He had lost control and allowed his emotion to overtake his reason burdening another, did it matter that it had happened after the danger had supposedly passed? He decided he would do as his master suggested and seek out other perspectives.

His master’s grin was back.

“Of course, no matter what stance you take I will have to teach you some techniques to help you compartmentalize your emotions, while it wasn’t wrong or dangerous this time exploding into a meltdown like that every time you get overwhelmed is probably not the healthiest way to go about life and I can’t handle that many emotional hearts to hearts.”

Plo couldn’t exactly smile but his crinkled his eyes in a close approximation and he didn’t stop the laugh that escaped either.

His master was the best.

Chapter Text

Settling back into the temple after mine and Plo’s little escapade was surprisingly chaotic. The two of us had been grounded on account of our unprecedented bond formation and that seemed to be the signal to everyone that Plo and I were in it for the long haul.

Many Jedi had secretly and not so secretly been expecting me to fail spectacularly as Plo’s master. Not that I can blame them really given my general lazy, responsibility avoidant attitude but still...

The bond changed all that to an alarming degree. Where our previous training bond had been thin and malformed on account of our species incompatibility now it seemed that nothing short of a lobotomy would be yanking that thing out of my head.

Me and Plo were bonded until one of us was dead.

Strangely I didn’t find this altogether worrying, as far as I was concerned, I was probably going to die well before Plo and was already fully committed to training him, our new bond didn’t change that. Yes the emotion thing was odd but given how I had had to adapt to the whole magic space wizards thing in the first place it barely even registered. What was a little bit of empathetic feedback compared to swearing to yourself to an unknowable eldritch entity, that let you mind control people?

Apparently I was the only one that thought like this.

Plo himself seemed incredibly concerned about how I was going to react to being bonded to him for life and seemed incredibly put out by my nonreaction.

To be fair so was almost everyone else in the Jedi order.

Almost everyone wanted to know about our bond. I had been poked, prodded and questioned by so many healers, knights and masters. Hell even the council had gotten off the comfy chairs to come have a poke about in my head.

On the bright side the solidification of our bond meant me and Plo got a room where the atmosphere could be separated. I hadn’t even realised that was a thing until the quarter master informed me. Apparently, it was quite a pain to set up and maintain a room like that so my resolve was tested before they committed.
I cannot tell you how pissed off I was to find out about this little nugget of information, the betting pool was one thing but this act of sabotage was another entirely.

I decided that my retribution would have to wait but it would be swift and merciless.

Anyway, it took us a couple of weeks to find an even remotely stable emotional equilibrium again, Plo felt so many things...

All the time.

I mean I'm not an emotionless robot but damn he was just so very empathetic. Sometimes I realised I was feeling feelings that weren't mine or even truly his, just a biproduct of everyone in the temple releasing emotions into the surroundings.

It was baffling. I had cried more in the last two weeks than in both lifetimes combined.

Naturally in response to my new emotional instability mother hens Yan and Yoda returned with a vengeance.

I was forced into tea and mediation with Yoda on a regular basis which was something I thought I had escaped upon my knighting. Swamp tea was somehow worse that fanfiction made it out to be and Plo’s amusement down the bond every time I got caught and forced into polite conversation was something I did not appreciate.

At all.

He was lucky I liked him so much.

Along with Yoda both Yan and Rael began making regular appearances as well.

Separately.

It was amazing, Yan would do his level best to avoid Yoda while Rael did his best to avoid Yan (Rael had been knighted earlier in the year and was making the most of his new independence). The most amusing thing was that Yan and Rael complained about exactly the same things in regard to their respective masters.
‘Yoda was too meddling’ and ‘Yan was always interfering in Rael’s missions.’ ‘Yoda never understood Yan’s opinions’ and ‘Yan never listened to Rael’s advice’.

And of course the lament of our entire lineage 'He never listens to me"

We were just such a disaster. It was absolutely ridiculous.

I was more amused and worried. This was exactly the thing that would drive us all apart and sow the seeds for the dark furture I was desperate to avoid. On the upside Plo was mostly just baffled by the two of them and their apparent master/padawan dynamics.

It gave me a wonderful but insane idea.

In fanfiction many of the stories mentioned something about lineage dinners and once I thought about it my poor brain just couldn’t let the idea go. Perhaps forcing the issue wouldn't help, the idea of putting Yoda, Yan, Rael, myself and Plo in a room and forcing everyone to be polite under the guise of civility was probably going to blow up in my face but...

It hurt. It was like watching the beginning of the end even before the story truly started.

If nothing else, it would begin to prepare Plo for negotiating in hostile environments.

I sent everyone an invitation to dinner and deliberately forget to mention who else would be joining us.

Of course, sending an invite to dinner meant I had to cook but it would be worth it if I could help, the way Yans eyes narrowed and Rael’s expression turned sour as they entered and saw who was waiting for them didn't fill me with hope.

From the way Yoda's ears drooped I think he may have found it almost as sad as I did.

Plo was an interesting mixture of weary, concerned, and suspicious which steadily began shifting into dread and resignation as the verbal sparring began in earnest.

Essentially the five of us sat around the table and spat polite thinly veiled insults at each other the entire night, occasionally splitting into a rigorous debate with me playing peace keeper. It was a master class in insults, negotiation and tone of voice.

Plo was traumatised by the end of it.

So was I but since no one died or simply got up and left I counted it as a win.

Outside of our little meal I had other problems, the council were pushing for me to take a certain mission type and I wasn’t willing to take Plo with me until he had a much firmer grasp of human/humanoid expressions body language and social interaction.
Feeling through the bond I could tell he was concerned and confused by almost every interaction we had had at the dinner. He struggled to tell if we were joking or serious and a lot of conversational nuances had been completely lost on him.

If I was going to take him negotiating with me on the outer rim, he needed to be able to at least tell when someone was serious or more importantly if they were getting close to the edge of civility.
In all honesty this wasn’t a skill I had had myself in my previous life, I’d been okay at recognising body language but mostly I went off the subconscious instinct all humanoids developed as they grew.

In my opinion the force made everything easier, and in this life, I had spent most of my knighthood running around the outer rim seeking out danger and running from my problems, I could spot a tell or a dangerous individual from across a room with only the briefest glances.

I knew these skills were honed by necessity and practice, but as I’d already decided not to try and engineer situations in order to create a teachable moment I was a little bit stuck on how to teach.

Plo at least needed to be able to tread water before we launchedinto shark infested waters.

This led me to create several lessons which I began calling Humanoid specialism 101.

The first lesson was lying.

Plo was uniquely suited here because of his nonhuman features, I could teach him how to spot a lying humanoid, but I and most of the galaxy had no idea what a dishonest Kel Dor looked like and the vocoder on the mask would do a very good job of covering any vocal tells.

Predictably I went about teaching how to lie in a very uninspired way, I taught Plo how to gamble.

Sabacc is often the game of choice in Star Wars universes, and I was very thankful that all it amounted too was a more complicated version of blackjack which I had known how to play as a child. I was excellent at Sabacc and so were Yoda and Yan if you were going to the outer rim it was an absolute necessity. It was a game played on almost every table in the galaxy from Coruscant to Tatooine, a language that everyone knew and could negotiate with.

If you needed money or info it could almost always be found around a Sabacc table if you knew how to earn your seat.

I walked Plo through tells and how to spot them, I talked him through bluffing and body language, how to pick up the minutest change in tone or pitch and naturally I taught him how to cheat. It was teaching him to cheat that reminded me of something and led me neatly to my next crisis.

Qui-Gon and Mace were ready to be padawans and while Yan had chosen Qui Gon, Mace hadn’t been chosen yet.

I acknowledged that I hadn’t seen either of them in a little while, being too caught up with Plo and being a knight but I needed other people to play Sabacc so Plo could put what he had learned into action.

The only other option was letting him cut his teeth against Yoda, Yan, or Rael and none of those were feasible until his grasp was better.

So, I went down to the creche to ask them if they wanted to join.

When I saw them, I couldn’t stop my shock.

Qui-Gon had grown like a weed, and even at 11 he was 90% limb, long gangly arms and legs with hands and feet he had yet to grow into, the suave competent Jedi master was nowhere to be found… Well until he opened his mouth. He was one of the smoothest 11-year-olds I had ever come across and the little shit knew it.

Yan would love him.

Right now, the effects came across as cute but, in the future… it wasn’t hard to see the smooth talking rule breaking jedi he would become.

Of course, he would have to quite literally grow into himself first, but the beginning was there.

Mace on the other hand was an angry child.

As I looked at his sullen scowling face, I couldn’t help but wonder when the Mace of the future had become such a hypocrite, dening Anakin when the boy before me was just…

Angry. An anger that sat just below the surface held back only by Mace’s determination and false façade of peace.

I had always thought the Jedi order to be a cruel judging children for their emotions but even I could see that Mace was closer to the dark side than most children.

To me I could still see the man he would become but as of now… Mace was 12 and his prospects didn’t look good.

I went to the creche to enquire about him, I couldn’t help it. Mace Windu was supposed to be the orders champion, one of its brightest stars and eventual master of the order.

What the fuck was going to happen to the world if he didn’t become a padawan and wound up as a farmer on Bandomeer?

What the fuck was I supposed to do with this?

I had Plo and he wasn’t going anywhere, I’d rather stab myself that pull that particular Qui-Gon Jinn move but at the same time Mace Windu absolutely had to become a padawan.

What am I supposed to do with this?