Plo's Bros inc.

Hairball

Her first week of service with the wolfpack and as the padawan of Plo Koon had taken quite a bit of adjustment. Considering that she had never participated in much combat outside of protecting a senator and training against another Jedi or the many droids in the temple, she took well to destroying the separatists' battle droids. What she did not take to as well was being close to a litter. Even if they were technically human, they were a litter. She had seen people which had formed attachments, though she had never had much proximity to such things. Especially not with the lack of privacy the week out in the field gave them.

For instance, when boarding the gunship at the end of her first battle with the clones, she noticed a decal on the side of the ship. She looked at it thoughtfully before asking Master Plo. "Master, you are aware that you aren't related to the clones?" The design was of two standard clone helmets on either side of what she assumed was Master Plo. The style was charming and clear in what it was depicting. The bit which she found confusing was the words above which read 'Plo's Bros'. She couldn't understand. Even if he had been related to men of an incompatible species, it wasn't like he would've ever known. She knew that if she went to Cathar that she wouldn't recognise any of it. She could meet her parents without realisation on either side of what naturally should've been between them. It wasn't uncommon that siblings that didn't come to the temple together would never know about each other. She could have been related to any youngling of her species that joined the temple between when her eldest siblings were born and four years after her parents stopped being able to have children. When she was younger she had hoped that she would recognise her parents in another youngling. She never even met another cathar near her age and as she grew, the hope faded. She knew that even if she had found a sibling that she couldn't've given into attachment.

Comet chuckled behind her and explained that they were brothers in arms. That blood relation was unimportant when it came to brotherhood on the battlefield. She tried to understand the best she could and even tried rewording his simple words with her own. She understood the principle of it but struggled to process what thoughts and feelings the clones may've had. Comet patted the confused padawan's shoulder in what she assumed was a 'brothers in armistice' fashion.

The next day, she noticed a horrific smell. She assumed something organic was rotting in the gunship. She tried blocking it out in her mind but eventually the stench was so painfully potent that she had to tuck the bottom part of her face into her robes. Her nose was so sensitive. It was beneficial at times when locating things based on scent. The downside was how easily overpowering smells could be. She struggled to distract herself in these kinds of situations. She wanted to believe her instinct was the socially acceptable thing to do. With how empty she'd felt, she'd found it harder to consider the thoughts and feelings of others in such situations. But it was probably something acceptable for a Jedi to do. "Boost, you stink." One of his brothers, Comet, remarked. He had looked toward Doryn but she thought that they wouldn't take much notice of her actions. She'd noticed how often at least one of the battalion's amber eyes had watched her. "No I don't. You just have a freakish nose." Being around squabbling clones very quickly improved her understanding and recognition of their emotions, though that didn't mean much with how lost she'd been before. Comet winked at her as he shrugged and let a hand run over his curly black hair. "Well, I think your nose is cute." That was when Boost understood that his brother was throwing him under the bus to try and win cool-guy points with the only girl they would see for a week. Boost and his unfortunate hair made quite a pathetic apologetic grovel. She was honestly in too much shock to give him a response outside of a mildly confused and horrified look which lasted a minute before she looked away and just looked at the floor. Not getting involved in their personal matters would be much easier for her. She also had to admit that she wouldn't have any idea on what to do or say to resolve the issue. She was a formidable warrior and a loyal student of the Jedi code. She had no idea what to say to men with their weird spiraling emotions that coiled around each other into a mess that seemed impossible to decipher.

Master Plo had tried to accelerate her bonding with the clones. He knew that she saw it as forbidden attachment but he knew that eventually her compassion would change it. She had been bonded to her previous master and Plo knew how strong the attachment had been. His padawan had already learnt many lessons but there was one that he noticed she lacked. She would eventually self-destruct without the lesson. Doryn needed to be taught that attachment wasn't a manifestation of the darkside itself. Plo needed his student to understand that what she had been taught was wrong and that it was only when attachment allowed decisions to be clouded or were mixed with a want to possess another. He couldn't tell his broken student this directly to her face. He needed to slowly let her see for herself the path she needed to take.

She hadn't known what to expect. She certainly hadn't expected to be waiting on a carrier ship while multiple skirmishes for separatist pockets in a single system happened. She had been informed that it was likely for air-support, which would be fulfilled by Master Plo and most of the ARF-troopers. If it was ground reinforcements or a second aerial request then it was down to Ryn and whatever men were there. She had stopped expecting much after their first hour floating in the system. It was only half an hour after that when the scramble announcement was made across the ship. Then it was only the padawan and troops necessary for any further requests for reinforcements. Plo had left her on the bridge with a small group of men. "Do you get hairballs?" He didn't have much in the way of individual markings. He had the classic paint-job of the wolfpack but hadn't taken much effort to distinguish his armour further than being generically in his battalion. "Are you under the impression that I'm a tooka?" Doryn hadn't meant to fall into the same form of humour as the clones. She usually hadn't even intended to be found funny. It was likely that much of it was how offended she seemed to the clones. Most of it was simply her face shape and cathar features. "Sinker, need I remind you to respect your superiors?" Wolffe was actually offended. He had such deep anger within him. Hate radiated from the metal and glass that sat in his scarred eye-socket. His disapproval of everything entertained his men. He reminded Doryn of how she'd imagined the personality of a suitor that would've impressed her parents. "Sorry, Commander." She hadn't been offended before but now she definitely was. It was this urge to show him up that bubbled in her chest. She was from a proud people, and was a Jedi on top of that. Some guy thought he had to defend her and she felt something outside of the emptiness that had filled her for so long. She couldn't act on it though. She was a Jedi. The filthy murderous glare she gave him wasn't very Jedi-like but it was also the smallest reaction she could have. She had no idea how he had managed to get under her skin so quickly. He was technically being helpful and doing his job but she just wanted to pick a fight with him.

Ryn turned, causing her robes to swish as if they'd been blown by autumn wind and her braid to got a little airtime. She wasn't running to the door but she may as well have been with the obvious intent and need to get away. Wolffe quickly glared at Sinker and gestured with his eyes for his brother to apologise. Even with his apology she still went to leave. She paused for a moment at the door with a single hand on it. She looked halfway to the side so the profile of her face was visible over her shoulder. She looked at the floor next to the men as she acknowledged the apology and looked at them for a second before leaving the bridge. "Now you've done it." Wolffe knew that the intention was never to offend and that none of them actually knew before that if she did get hairballs. Still, General Plo had told him to be gentle and he knew he needed to make sure she was okay even just for him. He rethought his action before going through with following her. He'd been trained to never hesitate on the battlefield but at least he knew what was coming there. He had no idea when it came to girls. He wasn't sure if it was obvious that it was him or if it was a Jedi thing, but she let him know quickly that she knew he was there. "Wolffe, I'm not weak. Look, I just need to meditate." She didn't say anything further or give him a chance to speak before walking to a quiet storage room to find her centre. Although he wasn't sure why she wanted to be in a tiny dark space when the General had always insisted that an open area worked better for him. Wolffe figured that it wasn't his job to understand a Jedi. His job was to follow his general and win this war.