Andromeda watched Thule, her eyes settling on his lips as he prepared to answer. She knew the moment the corner of his mouth lifted that it was a no. She almost didn't hear his platitudinous rejection -- the careful ways in which he wrapped the jagged edges in festive silk all but guaranteeing that she would cut herself on the sharp edges as she turned it over and over in her mind in the hours to come.
She wasn't offended -- not exactly -- but she was stung and a little confused. She had gotten it wrong, and badly wrong.
You were foolish to think you could read someone after so little time, no matter how impactful, Andy chastised herself. But she put on a smile, all understanding.
"Of -- of course," she stammered, taking two steps back -- back into the corner, unwittingly, as she tugged her sleeve down again.
"Yes. Me too -- the farm will be -- "
She didn't bother trying to finish the feeble attempt at saving face; Thule was already on his way out. She waited only until she could no longer hear his footsteps and retrieved her belt from the table outside, affixing it around her trim middle before clipping her reforged lightsaber to it. But attempt at saving face, however feeble, was an honest one: she was assigned to the farm today, and she went to work with the same grim determination she typically did.
It was good work, hard work, looking after the crops. Working out the right balance of fertilizer and water, executing the plan, and performing the other lifting, digging, planting, pruning, and disposing tasks kept her busy, distracted from the problem she knew she couldn't yet solve. Andromeda knew that she had to leave the Zakuul outpost. It would be uncomfortable for both of them to run into one another after she had made such an ass of herself. And since Andy was the sinning party, it was she who should go. It only stood to reason.
But
where?
The Padawan skipped dinner that night, instead choosing to hunker down in what passed for the outpost's library, using the holonet credits she had accrued over her time there to research varying Jedi enclaves around the galaxy. Andromeda knew that she needed a community -- an teachers. She could not will herself into Jedihood by sheer force of will. And she knew now what was likely to become of an angry, half-trained bundle of angst without properly learning the control and discipline that came with Jedi training.
The Odessen Enclave was intriguing and very nearly promising, but she had heard of a rebel cell fighting the Empire and the Sith was associated with it, which seemed a dangerous combination for her in that moment. Ditto to Master Si's enclave, besides which Andromeda was suspicious that the Cathar Jedi Master's personality wouldn't mesh with her own. No fault in that, and Andromeda was not so self-absorbed as to think that Master Si's approach was -- therefore -- incorrect, but the young miner felt she needed to set herself up for success as best as possible.
Still... any port in a storm. She copied Master Si's enclave information, just in case. Over the course of the evening she researched and copied half a dozen others. She would meditate on them overnight.
* * * * *
And so, when the Head of Outpost Standing knocked on her door and stepped into her humble room, she would find it stripped of the few personal effects that had populated it the night before: a snap of herself with Captain Baig and her as-yet unnamed project droid, which Baig had helpfully agreed to look after during her training; a few sketches, of Ares and her parents; the few sketch and pencils she had gathered; and the few changes of clothes she had to her name.
"Padawan Demir. Some wonderful news to start off your day. Someone finally placed a formal package last night to take you on as an apprentice. It's a new arrival, a Master Thule. You must have made quite an impression..." the woman frowned at Andromeda's reaction. "Of course," she continued slowly, "You do not need to accept... this is not like the old days. Padawans can decline a master's offer."
Andromeda finished sinching the strap shut on her backpack and looked up at the Head of Outpost Standing.
"I think you must have the wrong room," she said politely.
"Master Thule? You maybe meant Devereaux? He's next door." Andy hooked her thumb toward Devereaux's room.
"No," said the Head of Outpost Standing, who looked unimpressed to be questioned by a mere padawan. She turned her clipboard around and tapped at the name on the first line with her pen. She seemed to be quite agitated "It says Demir. D-E-M-I-R. Andromeda. That's you."
"Yes I know -- " Andromeda said, feeling a prickle of heat under her collar, but then held up her hands in an apologetic gesture.
"Apologies, madam, it is a misunderstanding. On my part, I'm sure."
"Well? Is it a yes?" She looked around the room briefly. "Only if you will be moving on we will need to make the room available to the next Padawan."
"No," Andromeda said quietly.
"I mean -- that is -- I will be out of the room today. Do you know where I might find Master Thule?"
The Head of Outpost Standing seemed to take that as a
yes I would be pleased to be Master Thule's padawan learner, please process whatever all that paperwork is and had set about to start filling in paperwork on the clipboard. She directed Andromeda to the last place she had seen the Jedi Master in question and Andromeda slung her bag over one shoulder and set off in search of him.
Andromeda Demir
