She had just turned eleven, and she was reading.

Not that it was a strange thing to do on a birthday. A birthday was really like any other day. It wasn’t celebrated in the Jedi Academy, as a youngling’s birthday could often arise questions about parentage and birthplace. Not necessary, not a good thing. She understood this, and didn’t question it.

That was were Vrook found her, curled up in the most comfortable chair that she could find in the library, a datapad in her arms. “What are you reading?” he asked.

“The Cultures and Belief Systems of the Outer Rims,” she said, not missing a beat. That was how she answered many people—as if she was being tested.

Vrook folded his arms inside the sleeves of his robe. “Have you noticed the Mandalorian bias?”

“I have. There also seems to be a bias in favor of the Echani.”

Vrook smiled at her. He enjoyed the youngling Jedi, and the amount of potential that she showed was great. “Someone is waiting for you outside in the other room.”

And she liked Vrook, for the most part. Enjoyed his company. She liked how he treated her—with the respect of a colleague, not a friend. She expressed interest in topics, he recommended datapads to read. A steady system and a comfortable relationship, though not informal. She turned off the datapad, placing it on the desk next to her for further use. “Yes, Master Vrook.”

The man in the room was staring out the window, his hands folded absently in his sleeves. He looked up when she closed the door behind her and smiled.

He wasn’t as old as the other Jedi Masters—in fact, he couldn’t have been too much older than thirty. He was tall and willowy, with black hair that framed his angular face but stuck out in odd, untidily awkward angles that were somewhat strange to see on any Jedi, let alone a Master.

“Hello, Sache.” He held out a hand, which she politely took in greeting. “I am Master Jardain Charan.”

She had seen him around the Academy, but this was their first meeting that she could remember, so she bowed in the traditional style. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Master,” she said evenly. Though he was a master, she hadn’t seen him actually participate with the rest of the Masters… what kind of Master was he, to not be part of the Council?

He laced his fingers together. “You’re probably wondering why I’ve called you here, Sache. See…” he paused, then gestured to a chair. “Won’t you sit?”

She sat, back straight, chin raised. Jardain leaned against the wall, and she blinked at him in confusion. Another blow against his status—Masters always stood straighter, held their head higher.

“I’ve been watching you, Sache. I’ve seen you in some of your lessons, seen you interact with your peers and those older then you. I don’t think I’d be wrong to say that you’re quite the case.” He smiled friendlily at her. “You’re well on your way to becoming a Jedi. You have the disposition for it, if I may say so.”

She was aware that her heart had began to beat painfully quickly. “I still have much to learn.”

“As do we all. Sache, I am a Sentinel on this planet. Though many tend to leave their homes here on becoming a Jedi, I’ve stayed here, overseeing domestic affairs that could result in violence and working as a mediator in aggressive disputations. This requires a patient mind and a neutral approach in you.” He leaned down. “Sache, I have seen you with your peers and I see something that I don’t usually see in many younglings your age. I see levelheadedness and impartiality.” He sat down next to her on another chair and drew it up. “I have discussed this with Master Vrook, and he believes that this may also be of advantage to you.”

“What would be an advantage?”

Jardain actually laughed outright, an anxious sound that was found in his smile as well. “Sache, I would like to take you as my Padawan.”

The blood that was thudding in her ears became louder.

Padawan? By this man, who she had never seen work with the Council in her life? By this man, with his hair sticking out and his slouching and his smiles? Vrook. Vrook would have been the Master of her choice, to be a Padawan to. But Vrook had encouraged this, believed in this. He must have trusted this Jedi Master Jardain. She would have to give him a chance. It was the only way.

Her voice did not tremble. “I would be honored to be your Padawan, Master Jardain.”

She had never felt so miserable in her life.

She forced the strength into an even more powerful statis, sending it crashing into Dante at close range, even as she slammed the hilt of the lightsaber into the back of his head, hoping the blow would induce unconsciousness.

--------------------

And it did. Dante the Sith Lord pitched forward, toppling into the ground, and as soon as he did she kicked the lightsaber out of his limp hand. It clattered across the floor and slid to a stop at the base of one of the walls. Then she kneeled, pressing two fingers against his neck. Yes, there was a pulse, and he appeared to be unconscious. She sent a extra depressant flowing through him, as she usually did. As if she was back on Dantooine, with Jardain and some men who had gotten out of hand and needed to be taken in, dealt with by authorities.

She’d never dealt with an actual Sith before, however. She frowned down at the body...