Faction Casting Stones

[Brander]

Aadihr Lidos

Brander sat cross-legged on the temple steps, shoulders slumped under the weight of his thoughts. The Jedi Temple loomed before him, its polished doors pristine and resplendent—a symbol of resilience and renewal. He scowled at their perfection. It felt like a mockery of his own fractured self, his unfulfilled dreams.

He just wasn't Force-sensitive. You had to be Force-sensitive to be a Jedi. That's how it worked.

But Brander wanted to do something—to be someone. Maverick had found work and was providing well enough for the lot of them, but Brander didn't want to be lumped in with the rest. More than that, he wanted to break free from the mark that had defined him his entire life. He wanted it more than anything.

He was grappling with rejection, trying to figure out a path forward. The Jedi had suggested the Corps, but none seemed like a fit. At least those had some connection to the Force.

He was trying to understand—to find that small, glimmering thread of hope. The Force flowed through all living things, didn't it? So why couldn't it flow through him? Was he just a mistake—a vessel never meant to be filled?

His progenitor had always thought poorly of the Force, calling it trouble not worth the effort. He'd spoken harshly of the Jedi too, always saying, "You can only rely on yourself." Those words echoed in Brander's mind, grating against everything he wanted to believe.

The ruddy-haired boy let out a heavy sigh, glancing up at the great doors of the temple, their gleaming surface untarnished by the chaos that had recently swept through. He bent down, picking up a few small stones scattered across the steps—remnants of that same chaos—and began throwing them at the doors. Each dull thunk barely registered against the noise of his thoughts.

He gripped another stone tightly, the jagged edges biting into his palm, and flung it harder. His frustration spilled out with the motion, raw and unrelenting. Another stone hit the door, its echo fading quickly into the silence.

Brander wanted to believe in something more, to prove that he could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Jedi despite his lack of Force sensitivity. He didn't want to be Maverick's shadow, didn't want to be defined by what he wasn't.

He clenched another stone, his lip trembling as he bit down on it. I was made for more—I have to be. Why couldn't the galaxy see it? Why couldn't he see it?

With a guttural yell, he hurled the stone as hard as he could, his frustration leaving him momentarily breathless as it hit the door.

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

The First Stone

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

Well, that could have gone better.

Months had passed and Aadihr still showed an astonishing talent for destroying every Holocron he attempted to make. He had only just got the blue dust off of him - as much as he could tell without eyes.

That's enough work for today.

A rumble in Aadihr's stomach reminded him that he was, in fact, a biological creature requiring food to live. He made for the doors of the temple, waving farewell to the archivist at the desk by instinct as his own force-Sight was already blocks away, scouting where he wanted to eat. He stepped out of the temple doors and-

Something hit his forehead, rather hard. It was jagged enough to draw blood he noted as he felt the warmth drip down his brow. The force did not warn him of danger, however.

Anchoring his Sight back to himself he took measure of his surroundings - the temple stairs were littered with small stones - one of which likely the one that hit him.

At the foot of the stairs was a youth - one who's aura was quickly stirring from frustration and rapidly shifting.

Aadihr was more befuddled than anything, realizing he had been frozen in place as he pieces together what exactly happened.

The pause stretched on awkwardly, the Miraluka totally oblivious to the context of the boy's tumult or their choice of . . . Vengeful recreation?

Perhaps this was a sign from the Force. He had been busy with the affairs of the Jedi Order since his return, when was the last time he helped another just to help? The way he used to on his travels.

Aadihr broke the silence, the waterproof blindfold pooling the slow trickle of blood atop his brow.
"...Sorry to interrupt."

Brander​

 

[Brander]

Aadihr Lidos


Before Brander realized it, someone had stepped out of the temple, and the rock he threw struck them squarely in the forehead. As fate would have it, the jagged edge drew blood.

Brander froze, his heart leaping into his throat as he dropped the other rocks he had been holding. His hand flew to his mouth, and his eyes went wide in shock. He hadn't foreseen—or expected—such an outcome from his little temper tantrum.

"Oh... I'm so sorry!" he stammered, his voice trembling as he padded forward.

The man didn't yell or scream as Brander had expected. Instead, his calm demeanor left Brander more confused than anything. His words were strange too, more like a quiet apology than the angry outburst Brander had braced for.

"Ah… y-you're bleeding," Brander blurted out, pointing out the obvious as guilt gnawed at him. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, his gaze flickering between the man's face and the slow trickle of blood pooling above his brow. Brander wanted to fix the mistake—wanted to help—but the truth was, he had no idea how to make this right.

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

"Ah… y-you're bleeding,"

"It appears I am." Aadihr responded, snapping out of his confusion. Despite the many ways he could guilt the boy, playing up the blind angle for kicks, he seemed to be having a rough time as it was.

"Are you alright?" He asked the youth, considering what could led them to their frustrations.

Aadihr descended a few steps and sat down on the stairs. "Rather, is everything alright? It's not often we get boys throwing rocks at the temple. Imperials, yes, but I don't think either of the empires recruit so young. Either that or my hearing's failing." Aadihr said with a slight laugh, letting himself indulge the 'poor blind man' facade a little.

"So I figure - assuming you aren't an imperial partisan - you must have some strife within you to throw rocks at a temple or you simply like throwing rocks, I suppose." Suddenly felt unsteady. Had the rock hit him hard enough to make him ramble? Or was he turning into a preachy old man before he's even hit 30?

"What I'm trying to say is... Uh... " What was he trying to say? Right, turning the act of throwing rocks at the temple into some sort of therapy session with the kid. "Uh... what's wrong?"

Aadihr touched his forehead, feeling a little more blood than he anticipated, but not enough of a bump to explain the confusion.

Oh right. The broken Holocron fumes.
He'd be fine, but it was incredibly unfortunate timing for the delirium to affect him as he tried to act composed, so the boy wouldn't think he had seriously injured the Jedi.

Brander​

 

[Brander]

Aadihr Lidos


"I'm fine... shouldn't I be the one asking if you're alright? I mean, of course you're not—you're bleeding," he said, his voice uneven as he huffed, the flipped script leaving him bewildered. He wasn't sure what to do with the concern aimed at him when it was the other person clearly in worse shape.

At the shift in the conversation, the redhead felt a surge of negativity welling up within him again. He fervently shook his head, as though the act could banish the storm of thoughts and feelings threatening to consume him. He was a maelstrom of emotions—an ever-shifting tide of anger, sorrow, frustration, and anxiety.

Hate rose to the surface, dark and potent, tangled with a tumultuous sorrow that left his chest tight. Frustration prickled at the edges, while an overarching sense of upset seemed to smother him. The question had clearly struck a nerve.

"No," he spat out, the single word laden with bitterness.

"I can't seem to do what I'm supposed to do—or what I want to do," he confessed, his voice sharp and exasperated, as though the admission alone could encompass all the pain gnawing at him. But even that wasn't enough. The inadequacy of his words only seemed to stoke his frustration as he shifted his weight and sent a small rock skittering down the steps with a swift kick.

His gaze dropped to the ground, his eyes beginning to sting with unshed tears. Heat flushed his face, and he tried to will away the shame that came with it.

"I don't think you'd understand," he muttered, his tone cracking with vulnerability. The words came out in a pitiful mewl, followed by a stubborn sniffle that betrayed his effort to hold himself together.

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

"I can't seem to do what I'm supposed to do—or what I want to do," "I don't think you'd understand,"

Aadihr silently smiled as he listened, almost nostalgic of the era of youth. A time when the galaxy seemed so vast that the possibilities were daunting and...

Nope, that was definitely the fumes guiding that train of thought.

Aadihr cleared his through and shook his head to clear it a little. The boy said they can't do what they are supposed to do, not that they didn't know.

"I may not understand yet, but I'm no mind reader. Why not help me understand - humor me a moment."

Aadihr set his staff down beside him and anchored his Sight on his physical presence, spotting the tumultuous swirls of negativity in the aura.

"What is it you feel you are supposed to do, and what do you feel is preventing you from doing so?"

Supposed to do. Wanted to do. This seemed a self inflicted frustration at some perceived failure based on the word choice alone, but Aadihr would withhold judgement and let the boy speak his truth, even as he removed a small of Bacta-cream to thumb a portion and smear it over the cut over his brow.

"It's okay to cry, boy. Nobody controls their emotions, only how they choose to engage with them; if you need a moment to unburden your heart before speaking then take all the time you need."

Aadihr's voice sounded slightly distant, reflecting on his own youth as he continued, "bottling up that emotion gets heavy."

By Ashla, I really am starting to sound like a geezer!

Brander​

 

[Brander]

Aadihr Lidos

"Well, I..." He paused, his voice faltering as he regarded the man before him, watching as he moved to treat the wound he himself had caused. A conflicted huff escaped him as he turned away, rubbing furiously at his eyes in a stubborn attempt to banish the remnants of tears threatening to fall. He sniffled once more, swallowing hard before gritting his teeth, his jaw clenched tight. His gaze dropped to the mark on his wrist, and for a moment, he simply stared.

He glanced back at the blind man, a small truth—or perhaps a peculiar realization—dawning on him. He didn't need to hide the mark from someone who couldn't see it, could he? The man might perceive much in other ways, but the mark itself... well, it would remain hidden simply by virtue of his blindness.

"Well..." he trailed off, his voice softer now, his fingers adjusting the wrappings around his wrist. He hesitated, struggling to decide just how much of himself he was willing to share.

"I can't use the Force," he admitted finally, the words raw and heavy, as if dragged from the depths of his frustration. "No matter how hard I try." His fingers tightened around the fabric on his wrist as his eyes clouded with a mix of longing and bitterness.

"And I want to do what Jasper Kai'el did," he said, his voice tinged with both reverence and desperation. The memory of Jasper and Braze leading him and his so-called 'siblings' out of the darkness still burned bright in his mind. They had shown him that the galaxy was so much bigger—so much richer—than the narrow, sheltered world they had known on Endor.

"It's just not fair," he muttered bitterly, his voice dropping low. "And don't bother telling me life's not fair. I already know." His tone sharpened with the echo of the 'tough love' their progenitor often wielded like a weapon. It was a mantra drilled into him and his siblings—a harsh truth they had grown up swallowing whole. "That's just how things are..."

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

"I can't use the Force," he admitted finally, the words raw and heavy, as if dragged from the depths of his frustration. "No matter how hard I try."

Ah, so that's the core of it. No doubt the consoling and coddling platitudes given to rejected initiates about other ways to serve was received poorly.

"And I want to do what Jasper Kai'el did," "It's just not fair," he muttered bitterly, his voice dropping low. "And don't bother telling me life's not fair. I already know." "That's just how things are..."

"There are a great many things Jasper Kai'el has done that you and I will never be able to. I'll let you in on a little secret: just because the force is in everything, doesn't mean it is everything. A millennia ago, the Jedi cowered in fear of a general with no connection to the force - a foe so fearsome he fought with the sabers he collected from Jedi he had slain."

Maybe this was the wrong message to send. Aadihr shifted the topic, diverting from history to possibility, "There is a lot more to what a Jedi is than just their connection to the force. For example, take a look at these pebbles you've tossed."

Aadihr motioned towards a small stone and focused on it, drawing on as much of the force as he could to attempt to lift it - one of the most basic exercises in telekinetic control.

The stone wobbled, slowly rose a few centimeters from the step, and tossed itself less than a meter away.

"That" Aadihr said, breathing slightly heavily, "is about all I can manage to manipulate with the Force. Do you think that could have caused this?" Aadihr said, pointing to the freshly bacta-sealed cut.

"There are many things you can learn and do - the force guides you just as it guides us. Perhaps it guided me into the path of your stone for this very purpose."

That may be a stretch, Aadihr was simply hungry.

"There are others with limitations and various blocks, mental or otherwise, that have learned to adapt. The temple may require a metric of force sensitivity to enroll, but plenty have learned apart from the guidance of the academies."

Aadihr once again tried to reign in his rambling. "What I mean to say is, if you want to be like Jasper, to be a hero, you don't need the force. You need a good heart, courage, and a nether hell worth of exercise. I'm not going to lie and say the force may come to you with time or isolation and meditation, but I will tell you that with dedication, exercise, and practice, you can be on equal footing with half of the Padawan we get these days."

Aadihr tried to understand why he was suddenly so invested in this boy's dream. He recalled his tutelage. The bruises, the extra hours of practice, the punishments for not doing something with the force he wasn't able do. Maybe it was to spite his mentor. Maybe Aadihr saw something of himself in the youth's frustration.

Without moving his head or body language, Aadihr curtly ordered, "catch!" And quickly picked up a stone and tossed it at the boy, testing his reflex.

Brander​

 

[Brander]

Aadihr Lidos

"Where do I start if no one will teach me?"

Brander muttered, his brow knotting with a bitter frown. Frustration boiled under his words, sharp and hot, spilling out despite his attempt to keep it contained. He clenched his fists at his sides, knuckles pale against the tension. The truth gnawed at him—he didn't know much about this wide, unpredictable galaxy, let alone what it would take to stand on equal footing with the Padawans he envied.

Oh, what he would give to show he could match them, to prove he was just as capable as any of them. But how could he? They were distant, larger than life, their achievements casting long shadows that felt impossible to step out from under. The idea of being like them was both tantalizing and maddening, as if reaching out for the stars only to feel them slip through his fingers.

"catch!"

The word snapped through the air before Brander had time to react. A rock sailed toward him, but his body moved instinctively. His hand shot up, catching it with a clean motion. Reflex. It wasn't thought, just action—natural, sharp, practiced. He blinked at the rock in his hand, a touch of surprise breaking through his frustration.

Brander's jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to the stone. "I was trained," he said, the words stiff, edged with something unspoken. "Alongside my siblings. Combat, survival, missions—stuff to make you more than just a soldier. Stuff to make you an assassin." His voice dropped lower, the bitterness sharpening. "For purchase."

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

The kid caught the stone. Aadihr could work with this.

"I was trained," he said, the words stiff, edged with something unspoken. "Alongside my siblings. Combat, survival, missions—stuff to make you more than just a soldier. Stuff to make you an assassin." His voice dropped lower, the bitterness sharpening. "For purchase."

"I take it your parents taught you all the wrong things, then. I take it they don't know you're here?" Aadihr could guess the boy was a clone or experiment of some sort, but he held out hope maybe the kid was adopted - albeit by some psychopathic assassin vendors.

"Look, kid - I'm going to call you kid because I don't know your name and not because I'm getting old - you just caught that rock. It didn't hit you in the forehead, it didn't cut your brow. Congratulations! You've proven you can surpass a Jedi knight at something."

The boys frustration at the lack of a teacher didn't go unnoticed.

"C'mon kid. You wanna be taught, you're gonna be taught. Consider it community service for defacing the Jedi temple." Aadihr stood, beckoning for the child to follow. Not onto the temple grounds proper, but public gardens just outside.

"Tell me about this training you had - what sort of things did they drill?"

Braze​

 

[Brander]

Aadihr Lidos

He shook his head at that, then padded after him.

"Maverick is our eldest," Brander chirped, his voice carrying a hint of forced cheer, as if trying to smooth over a jagged edge. "He takes care of us. Always has." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "We don't really have parents... I guess Ace might be something like a father to us." The words hung in the air, awkward and uncertain, as if even Brander wasn't convinced of the comparison.

He trailed off, his gaze shifting downward. After a moment, he continued, his voice quieter now, more reflective. "The progenitor would choose certain ones of us to teach special skills... things like adaptability, interrogation tactics, infiltration, reconnaissance. Even what information was worth keeping, worth using." Brander's tone grew softer, almost wistful. "I wasn't chosen. Not for any of it.... I did strength training, endurance training like the rest... the basics of combat."

A faint bitterness crept into his voice, though it was dulled by resignation. "The only time I ever got a chance was when I won a competitive bout. That was the rule—win, and you earned your place. Lose, and you were just..." He didn't finish the thought, the weight of the unspoken word clear enough.

"Maverick, though," Brander continued, forcing a small, hollow smile. "He was chosen most of the time. Guess he had what they wanted."

There was no jealousy in the way he said it, just a quiet acceptance, like a scar that no longer hurt but still itched when he thought about it too long.

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

What in the...

"Is that why you feel you were meant to be able to use the force? Because this 'progenitor' designed you to?"

Aadihr's worry increased with each word. Not only did this sound like some sick criminal scheme, but also was so distant from a normal upbringing Aadihr was astonished the boy spoke galactic basic.

Aadihr picked a spot on in the grass and sat. Motioning for the boy to sit opposite from him.

"And these 'siblings' - Maverick, Ace, so forth - do you still live with them? I suppose what I mean to ask is: are you safe? Did you run off on your own or were you sent here to join the temple?"

Aadihr was willing enough to try some basic force exercises, just to see how "unable" the boy truly is but the concern that a clone assassin would come looking for him mid lesson.

A secondary worry passed through Aadihr; what if they weren't looking for him? What if nobody was? He watched Brander's aura closely, trying to determine by reaction if the kid was otherwise out of options on where to go.

Brander​

 

[Brander]

Aadihr Lidos

Brander followed Aadihr's motion and settled down across from him, though his unease was evident. He shifted constantly, his movements restless, as if his own skin was a cage he couldn't escape.

"Well… not exactly," he began hesitantly, his gaze fixed somewhere over Aadihr's shoulder. "The Progenitor is Ace. He's the one we were all made after. Most of our genetic material comes from him. He was one of our instructors."

Brander paused, his hands fidgeting with a blade of grass. "I lived with the others... Maverick goes where he pleases and visits us sometimes. We're all supposed to find our place in society now." His voice faltered slightly before continuing. "Master Jasper Kai'el brought us here to the Temple. We've moved around a lot, especially with the war going on."

There was a brief silence before Brander added, almost bitterly, "I'm supposed to be able to use the Force, like everyone else. All my siblings can do it—every single one of them—but not me." He forced a weak smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I try, but it just doesn't happen. I'm… different."

His fidgeting stopped momentarily as he stared down at the ground, his voice growing quieter. "Back at the facility, we didn't even know what the Force was. Mother kept these… lizards—Ysalamiri—to suppress it. She used them to control us, to keep everyone in line." Brander's tone darkened, a mix of frustration and faint admiration creeping into his words. "Everyone but Maverick. He was never controlled. That's why they called him Maverick."

His gaze lifted, locking with Aadihr's blind fold for the first time. "The Handler and Ace used to take him away from the group a lot. They'd train him. He was the only one they let play with Valor, and none of us ever understood why... Valor was differnt from us... he wasn't the same. Maverick said he looked like one of his other teachers we never saw. A Man they called Kaito... Valor was Mother's favorite because he was more like him... like that man. He was often seperated from us..."

Brander's voice grew quieter, tinged with an edge of melancholy. "None of us really had 'real' names. They were just… things we were called because of something we did, or how we were. Like Maverick. He was the only one who didn't fit the mold, so that's what they called him. He'd always been the exception, the outlier. The rules that bound the rest of us seemed to bend or break entirely when it came to him. He refused to conform, resisted the control, and earned his name for it. Maverick. Ace and the Handler had singled Maverick out, taking him away from the group, training him, and letting him do things the rest of us could only dream of—like sparring with Valor.

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

This was... A lot to take in. Aadihr tried to imagine being raised as a clone, trained for a specific purpose, but the thought left dejected. The memories he had with his parents and sister back on Alpheridies were too precious - and this boy had nothing of the sort of his own.

"The Force isn't something to mass-produced - but you seem to know that already."

Aadihr set his staff in the grass.

"I will teach you. I have no doubt of your desire to learn and you surely must be used to beating yourself against a proverbial wall, but as long as you have the will to try, I will teach you."

It may be a waste of time, but even if it only serves to help the boy accept his limitations, it would be worth it. The boy seemed to blame themselves for what was beyond their control - and that, at least, Aadihr could help with. All it required from Aadihr was patience.

"We'll start right now. First - as pointless and unorthodox as it may seem, this exercise will help both of us understand and develop your connection to the force. Sit still. Move not a millimeter."

Aadihr sat, legs crossed and rested his hands with the palms facing up atop his knees, demonstrating and remaining still himself.

Brander​

 

[Brander]

Aadihr Lidos

He perked up at the man's offer, the idea of being taught lighting a brief spark of hope. But that spark was quickly smothered by doubts, concerns, and the weight of uncertainty. He listened intently, tilting his head as if trying to absorb the words more fully. Sit still? The concept seemed foreign to him, almost laughable.

He shifted in place, crossing his arms over his chest and exhaling a heavy breath. Did he even have a connection to the Force? He didn't think so—not like the others. But then again, wasn't the Force said to flow through all things? Did that mean he had some faint thread of connection, however insignificant? The question nagged at him, and as it did, self-doubt began its familiar creep into his thoughts, coiling tighter with every heartbeat.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't stop fidgeting. His leg bounced, then stilled as he forced it down, only for his fingers to drum impatiently against his arm. He tried again to be still, but it felt impossible. His mind was a storm—chaotic, restless, and riddled with questions that spiraled endlessly. Was this how it was supposed to feel? Was he doing it wrong? He bit his lip, catching himself mid-movement and freezing in frustration, only to adjust again moments later. Why was it so hard to just… be?

The truth was plain enough: he was anxious. He was a boy of action, not stillness, plagued by self-doubt and, worse, self-loathing. Every attempt to calm himself seemed to magnify the internal unrest.

His gaze flickered downward, guilt darkening his expression as his eyes lingered on the wound he'd caused. It had been treated, yet the memory of it burned in his mind. His thoughts roamed restlessly, darting from one thing to another, never lingering long enough to settle. But beneath the noise, a single thread of focus remained—a question he hadn't yet voiced, one that gnawed at him in silence.

"I don't have anything to give you in trade," he mumbled at last, the words tumbling out in a tone both meek and sorrowful. He glanced at the man uncertainly. He didn't even know his name, let alone what he might offer in exchange for the lessons. The problem he'd caused already weighed heavily on him, leaving him feeling undeserving of any kindness. "I wouldn't feel right taking your time…" His voice trailed off as he averted his gaze, shame coloring his features.

"But I'm a diligent worker," he added, his words spilling out in a rush as though to fill the silence. His thoughts churned too chaotically for him to focus, let alone achieve the stillness he was supposed to be striving for. He looked up, his expression that of uncertainty. He wasn't sure what answer he wanted—or if he even deserved one.

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

The boy struggled to sit still, and Aadihr took note of the fluctuating ripples of his aura.

Aadihr remained silent, letting the boy speak and measuring what was on their mind by how they tried to break the silence.

Aadihr remained motionless and silent for another few minutes, letting the boy feel the constant tug to be doing something, the itch that time was wasting. He waited until the boys aura was on the brink of giving up entirely before he spoke:

"It's not so easy, is it? Doing nothing. Your mind is so busy inside itself, how could you possibly hope to free it enough to observe the Force around you?" Aadihr smiled, assuring the boy that this was an expected outcome, not something to be frustrated with themself for.

"Do not worry about trading for training. I only ask one thing in exchange: I will train you as long as you are willing to learn - but if you give up, you will put your ambitions of using the force behind you entirely, and move on to living a normal life as best you can."

Aadihr did not expect a miracle of the force, but a test of patience and endurance. If the boy developed some force sensitivity it would be a breakthrough. More realistically, he wanted the boy to learn of themselves and their limitations without the lack of a teacher as an excuse.

Aadihr would teach to the best of his ability, and silently vowed not to repeat the abuse of his own master when Aadihr proved incapable. At the very least, he would help the boy.

"I ask that you take the training seriously with your most earnest effort, or else leave this ambition behind entirely."

Aadihr returned to his meditative pose, and waited a moment longer.

"Worry not for my time, kid. I've got nothing better to do - at least until the next planetary conflict" Aadihr lied as his stomach rumbled.

"This will continue until you are able to keep your body motionless. That includes your yapping mouth." He said, voice conveying a playful jab instead of anger or frustration.

"First we still your body, then we still the mind." Aadihr's stomach grumbled louder, audible in the silence between the two of them.

"Perhaps we resume this lesson after I've eaten... do, uh, do you have food and shelter? Or were they expecting you to be accepted by the Jedi and rely on the temple dorms?" Aadihr didn't want to seem like a creep, but he also didn't want the boy to be sleeping in the streets and scavenging for food.

Brander​

 

[Brander]

Aadihr Lidos

Brander's gaze flickered between the white-haired man and the ground, trying to latch onto every word he spoke. It wasn't easy—his mind raced in every direction, a storm of worry and doubt. Stillness wasn't his strong suit, and he shifted his weight nervously, his fingers toying with the edge of his tunic.

"No, it's not easy at all," he mumbled, his voice subdued, almost apologetic. He felt like he should say more but couldn't find the words.

"Do not worry about trading for training. I only ask one thing in exchange: I will train you as long as you are willing to learn - but if you give up, you will put your ambitions of using the force behind you entirely, and move on to living a normal life as best you can."

Brander blinked, his heart lurching in his chest. Giving up entirely? His goals, his dreams, all of it? That sounded impossibly final. Too big, too much. His frown deepened as he tried to untangle the implications.

So if he failed, that was it? No second chances? The idea clung to him like a shadow, cold and heavy. It didn't mean he'd have to stop trying to help people, right? It just meant he couldn't use the Force to do it—or maybe it meant something worse. The words were confusing, vague in a way that gnawed at him, but he was too afraid to ask for clarification. What if asking made him seem weak?

He drew in a breath, held it, then let it out in a slow, shaky sigh that was supposed to steady him. It didn't. The knot in his chest tightened, and his thoughts swirled faster.

"Perhaps we resume this lesson after I've eaten... do, uh, do you have food and shelter? Or were they expecting you to be accepted by the Jedi and rely on the temple dorms?"

The man's calm, probing question hit a tender nerve, and Brander swallowed hard. His shoulders sagged slightly as he gave a small, nervous laugh, an awkward attempt to mask the unease creeping up his spine.

"Uh… Maverick provides for us," he admitted, his words coming out uneven. "He wants us to find our place in the galaxy, though, to… to learn to be independent. It's understandable. I mean, I can't expect him to take care of me forever. There's… there's a lot of us siblings, you know."

The laugh died as soon as it escaped, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake. His chest felt tight again, and he cursed himself for not sounding more confident, more sure of himself. Brander bit the inside of his cheek, hoping the man couldn't see how small and uncertain he felt beneath the surface.

And yet, the words still weighed on him. If you give up… They echoed, lodging in his mind like a splinter. What if he wasn't good enough? What if he failed? What if giving up was the only thing he was good at?

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

"Uh… Maverick provides for us," he admitted, his words coming out uneven. "He wants us to find our place in the galaxy, though, to… to learn to be independent. It's understandable. I mean, I can't expect him to take care of me forever. There's… there's a lot of us siblings, you know."

"Come along then, I'm buying. If you're truly not force sensitive, we'll have a lot of training ahead. What is your name, kid? My name is Aadihr."

The boy still seemed on edge, fear of failure? "Relax, there's no time limit here. My wording was quite intentional - I will teach as long as you are willing to learn. If you give up. You can fail as many times as you need to - as long as you have the will to try again, we will keep training."

Aadihr picked up his staff and rose to his feet. "It's a wager, I suppose. I'm betting that I can be more stubborn than you are. That and keep you from turning delinquent and blaming the Jedi for refusing to teach you."

Aadihr cracked a smile - let the boy find Aadihr frustrating, let him guide it away from himself and the Order. Aadihr spoke again as be started to walk towards some eatery or another nearby.

"So prove me wrong, if you think you can. Until then, have you ever tried a Rodian Platter? I could go for some Cranker Root."

Brander​

 

[Brander]

Aadihr Lidos


"Adder? Like a snake?" he asked, as he repeated the name, Aadhir. Padding after him, he huffed softly, a faint unease in his movements. "Oh, uh... I'm called... Brander," he added, his voice faltering slightly before he cleared his throat with a forced cough.

"I haven't had anything like that before. There's... a lot of strange and different things I'm not used to," he admitted, his tone light, though his gaze betrayed a hint of apprehension.

He paused for a moment before pressing on, his expression firming slightly. "What do you intend to teach me? How to fight better?"

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

That was perhaps the first time Aadihr has been compared to a snake, and it brought a light chuckle as he corrected the pronunciation of the boy.

"Brander - like one who brands? Or one to be branded? Eh nevermind, both sound like horrible parenting. Basically, it's a platter full of deep fried, oily Cranker Roots, you'll love it - unless you get heartburn, but you're young still."

"What do you intend to teach me? How to fight better?"

"Not fighting necessarily. Some, sure, though It sounds to me that you've had thorough combat training - but you came to a Jedi temple, so I'll evaluate how your training affects your affinity for different analogues for lightsaber forms - I can sneak out a few training sabers for a few days at a time."

Aadihr approached a stall and ordered with the Rodian chef at the street-food bar counter.

"But primarily, I intend to teach you more of what it means to be a Jedi. Not combat nor Force powers, but the code, the purpose of the Order. An understanding not of just the force but of the light and dark aspects of it, balance versus imbalance, and unity versus self. What most would consider the 'boring stuff'."

The sizzling of the frying oil and roots in the wok brought an enticingly savory aroma to the conversation.

"Not just theory, but meditative exercises, potentially a modified Alchaka for your force-insensivity. How to center yourself when the galaxy seems to spin your life on a whim. Between the theory and meditative practices, we will continue basic force sensitivity tests, to check for change in capability."

To be completely transparent, Aadihr continued, "developing force sensitivity is generally considered to be a fruitless endeavor, so my first priority is to teach you what you may actually take with you, things that, frankly, many Jedi ignore while they primarily hone their force senses, lightsaber forms, or telekinesis."

The platters arrived, battered and fried slices of starch roots topped with spices and a bowl with some Rodian sauce to dip in.

"As the force is in everything around us, perhaps we can find some way to bring about a change in your connection to it - but I will offer no false assurance or promise of power, like some sith or cybersurgeon. Neither of us will know if it truly is possible to naturally cultivate it, so I will teach you to be a Jedi. If the Force comes to you, you will be ready for it, able to resist the lure of the dark side."

Aadihr pondered for a moment over the steaming Rodian Platter.

" The dark side of the force loves to tempt those who feel powerless into embracing it. Should all else fail, I hope to at least give you the knowledge and tools necessary to resist that call if it should ever find you."

Suddenly releasing the serious atmosphere, Aadihr grabbed a piping hot root and bit, promptly burning his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

Delicious

Brander​