Plo's Bros inc.

Confession

There were a few practices which were common among all Jedi Masters. Giving your Padawan an important and meaningful gift on their thirteenth birthday, giving your Padawan tasks that would force them to learn more about themself and sending your Padawan to the archives to teach them to slow down a bit. Master Tassu had used all three of these practices and formed his Padawan into a Jedi almost ready for her trials.

Doryn had fallen so far from the Padawan she'd once been at Master Tassu's side. Instead of the calm that she knew the archives lesson was meant to teach, she came away even more antsy than she had been even as a youngling. When assigned the same lesson at 14, she had learnt it and left the data covered walls with a better understanding of quiet and peace. She supposed at 14 she hadn't considered that her Master was capable of dying and she hadn't had a battalion to worry about. No, Doryn was very aware that Master Plo could die. Just like Master Tassu had.

She stared at the geranium which was one of a handful of personal items Doryn had. It sat on top of a small set of draws. She hadn't been able to bring herself to complete Master Plo's lesson of connecting to the potted flower. Instead, the lesson had been abandoned and she cared for the plant as any non-Jedi would. She had worried when the petals started to lose some colour and eventually gave in to the urge to check on it with the Force. She knew that plants tended to be deciduous, but for some reason hadn't expected for her plant to do the same. Though, she couldn't remember a decorative flower that hadn't been in bloom at the temple.

It'd probably been a cool breeze on a venator that'd made the plant believe winter was coming. That had to be it. She could ask the plant. She could connect to it. The only issue being that Doryn Ror, Padawan to Plo Koon, was nervous. It seemed so stupid. She had faced serious injury and death since she'd become a Padawan. She'd first seen a corpse of a Jedi knight when she was just 8. Though the fear wasn't dying and death. The fear was of something much worse. Giving in to her wants and eventually the Dark Side.

Master Plo was an experienced Jedi Master and Master Yaddle had been centuries old. Maybe Doryn was just too young and inexperienced to understand. That would be admitting that Master Tassu had been wrong though. Something she'd come closer to each day she spent as Master Plo's Padawan. But the archives failing to fix her like they had when Master Tassu sent her? That just brought her closer to realising it. The other thing pushing her was her current worry and the associated attachment. Loving Wolffe couldn't be wrong. Oh. Love? She'd managed to surprise herself with that one, but she supposed it was the correct way to describe how she felt. Yes. She was in love with Wolffe. How could that ever be bad? How could her love for the human turn to evil without an active choice to shut out the light?

"Master Tassu was wrong." She whispered into her essentially empty room. She felt a link, in the chain holding her back, break at its welding point and wrench open. She let out a slow breath and closed her eyes. Master Tassu was wrong. Master Tassu's teachings were wrong. For the first time since she'd been a youngling on Ragoon-VI, Doryn opened herself fully in the Force to connect to the single red flower. She didn't demand the plant's health or forcefully probe it. She simply meditated with the life-form.

She asked the Force to return her Master and the wolfpack back to her safely. She was finally starting to understand it and the extent to which she needed them all. She needed the clones, her Cathar community, to become the Jedi that the Force intended. She needed Wolffe and her love for him. She needed him to know.

-

Doryn watched the skies with horror. Four venators had gone to Lola Sayu. The long spearhead-shaped ships which could house thousands each. The space above Coruscant only held three and one of them was trailing a thick line of smoke. Really, all of them had taken a decent amount of damage. She could just about feel Master Plo in the Force. She could feel him reaching out over the noise but she couldn't quite distinguish the clones. She'd never tried to memorise them in the Force and there were so many clones among the venators that she had no clue where to even begin. The regret that she could feel from Master Plo made her feel sick. She should've been hoping that none of the pack had died but her only plea was for it to not be Wolffe.