Private First Steps

[Ivy Maro]

Ala Quin

​

The Jedi Temple on Naboo was impossible not to explore.

Every corridor opened into another impossibly grand chamber filled with statues, archives, meditation gardens, star maps, or training rooms she absolutely suspected she was not supposed to enter. More than once she had nearly walked through a doorway or reached her hand out before noticing a Jedi or two giving her the kind of polite look that translated very clearly into "don't go there" or "don't touch that".

It was this kind of curiosity that made her lose track of time completely, in the first place.

A few hours ago, Ivy had arrived in the Temple hangar aboard a starfighter streaked with soot and hyperspace dust. She had expected a quick greeting, maybe a lecture, maybe someone important immediately ushering her away for whatever formal Jedi business she thought she was here for.

Instead, she met Michael Angellus . One conversation in the hangar somehow turned into Michael mentioning a relative of his, Connel Vanagor , running a self-defense class deeper inside the Temple complex. Ivy had tagged along mostly out of curiosity.

That curiosity had earned her several bruises, a few destroyed training droids, and the sight of Michael getting decked hard enough by another droid to nearly flatten him.

Ivy still snorted quietly remembering it. To be fair, she had helped drag Michael to the medical bay afterward to patch up his bruises. That had to count for something.

Now cleaned up and freshly changed into an outfit that wasn't a flight suit — trousers, soft sole boots, a tunic shirt wrapped with a belt around her waist, and hair redone into a single, polished braid instead of the disheveled ponytail it'd been earlier — currently, Ivy leaned against a carved stone railing overlooking a lower training floor where a group of younglings practiced with training sabers, tiny blue and green blades flickering in uneven arcs while instructors corrected stances with patient exhaustion.

One kid spun too hard and fell over. Another tried to show off, only to smack himself in the face with the practice saber. One of the supervisors caught a blade mid-swing without even looking... Okay, that was actually impressive.

Ivy exhaled softly, arms resting atop the railing. Excitement buzzed beneath her skin no matter how much she tried to act casual about all this. The Order. The Temple. Actual Jedi Masters walking about these halls like it was normal.

And somewhere in this giant maze of marble and history, one of them was apparently coming to formally meet her. Eventually.
​

 

[Ala Quin]

Cantin Varr was a tall, broad shoulder and serious man. A master Jedi of great repute, and only recently come to Naboo to work among the fledgling, rebuilding Jedi Order. As a Zabrak, he was unsurprisingly one of great martial prowess, and the saber hilt that hung on his belt bore the scuffs and scratches of many a battle. He looked ever part the seasoned, wise, and articulate Jedi Grandmaster.

Besides the nearly six-foot five man walked a tiny, curly haired young woman, surely no older than her mid twenties. She chatted happily, eyes sparkling and seemingly thrilling in her conversation with the much taller Jedi.

The conversation had covered many subjects. And Cantin had been kind enough to the young woman to indulge all her questions, pokes and prods. He was a wise man, and she seemed enamoured not by him per se, but by the experience she could glean.

Their path took them towards a waiting Padawan. Both the tall, dominating presence of Cantin Varr, and the small hurried looking woman trying to keep up, approached the young Padawan. Cantin showed no signs of curiosity, stoic expression remaining intact. The curly haired woman on the other hand, she had eyes as wide as dinner plates, clearly noticing a similar physilogical trait that the the two women shared.

"Padwan Ivy Maro. Greetings. I am Master Cantin Varr," he said, in that deep, rumbling bass of his.

Besides him, the curly haired woman waved incessantly.

"Welcome to the Sanctuary of the Jedi Order. I leave you in the capable hands of the Grandmaster of our Order," Cantin said, before bowing first to Ivy, and then to the shorter woman at his side. He then walked on down the hallway, headed to a class philosophy that he was clearly excited to teach.

The curly haired woman stopped waving, briefly. And then offered another quick wave, and the broadest smile imaginable. "Hi. I'm Ala."

| Ivy Maro |​

 

[Ivy Maro]

Ivy's eyes widened as the towering Zabrak addressed her. Padawan?

She didn't consider herself to be a "padawan" at all. Too honorific of a title, for her. Yet. Ivy wondered if she was supposed to bow to the two Jedi. Curtsey? Salute? Stand straighter? The Zabrak looked every bit like a legendary Jedi Grandmaster. Battle-worn hilt, immense stature, voice like distant thunder...

By the time Ivy decided she probably should have bowed, Master Cantin Varr was already doing so first. Ivy stared after him in speechless awe as the Zabrak disappeared down the corridor, robes sweeping behind him with the quiet certainty of someone who knew exactly where he belonged in the galaxy.

Then Ivy remembered there was still another person standing in front of her. The small curly-haired woman waved again with such unabashed enthusiasm that Ivy instinctively mirrored it back.

“Hi, I’m Ivy,” she said, matching Ala’s cheerful tone. Her brain finally caught up with her eyes. “Oh my goodness, you’re so cute!" Ivy blurted, eyes lighting up over her and Ala's similarities. "And you have pointy ears too! Eek—what species? I got mine from my dad’s side. He has some Sephi-Arkanian-ish blood in him, but mostly Human, as far as I know. Same as my mom, Human.”

She forced herself to calm down a little, though excitement still buzzed visibly through her. “Wait, so you’re a Grandmaster? Like the big boss? The CEO?” Ivy’s eyes widened all over again. “Whoa...How long have you been here? How long have you been a Grandmaster? How long did that take? Sorry, it’s just—” She laughed nervously. “Normally when you think of 'Grandmaster' you think of someone like that guy Master Varr. All big and… ‘grand.’”

Her grin turned sheepish, remembering her manners. “Oh-! Thank you so much for meeting me here. I didn’t expect they’d send someone really important like you. I mean, someone else of non-Grandmaster status would’ve been fine too if you’re busy, I’m sure you must be busy.”

The awkwardness of her own rambling hit her a second too late. But Ala, at least from first impressions, seemed easy to talk to. Safe, somehow. Warm in a way that eased Ivy’s nerves. Still, she reminded herself that this woman was probably very important, not to have her time wasted.

Ivy straightened slightly and tried to gather her thoughts into something coherent.

“Anyway... I’m trying to learn the truth,” she admitted more quietly. “There’s so many groups called Jedi, and so many different groups and orders of them, I’m… trying to find my place. Which one I belong to.” She paused. “The more I learn, the more I realize I don’t know.” The statement left her mouth before she fully realized how surprisingly wise it sounded. Ironically, that uncertainty itself felt more Jedi than half the things she’d tried to imitate over the years.

Ivy exhaled softly before continuing to shed context for Ala's reference. “So how I got here is that I’m, uh… I'm from Tepasi. I’m the only Force user in my family. That I know of, anyway.” She shrugged awkwardly. “My parents didn’t really encourage me to explore my abilities, so I kinda…didn’t, for a really long time. I pretty much forgot I could do 'things'.”

A faint smile tugged at her lips. “My mom really wanted me to be a scientist like her, so that’s what I did. Went to school, got my lab science degree, started working…” The smile faded slightly. “Then I had a bad incident at work that made me... rethink my whole life direction...purpose...thing.” She gave a tiny laugh. “I heard about people with powers like me, but I never really thought I had it in me to be 'good' at it. Or really pursue it."

Her hands moved as she spoke now, animated despite herself. “But I got curious, so I went on the HoloNet and started researching about all these different kinds of Force-user groups and found a chat forum about a Force-user enclave on the planet Kattada. So I went over to Kattada and that's how I met a few Jedi from the ExplorCorps, at the enclave. I worked for them as a lab tech.” She laughed lightly. “They were pretty lax on rules, I guess. I wasn’t a sworn Jedi or anything, but they let me shadow around and even go on one of those crystal hunts, which is how I got my lightsaber."

Her hand drifted to the hilt hanging on her belt. The admission carried a flicker of guilt Ivy couldn’t completely hide. Sometimes the saber felt borrowed, like she was wearing a title she hadn’t earned yet.

“Thought I'd get into piloting too and 'make a difference' in the galaxy, try something new, so the ExplorCorps helped finance that for me and put me through navy school. The Enclave told me about the big Jedi Order here on Naboo, so… that’s why I’m here.” Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug, smiling meekly. “To find out if I’m meant to be here. If this Order is the right fit for me.”

Maybe a part of her had already chosen, but Ivy had already learned her lesson once before about getting burned, not to give her hopes up and jump in all at once too soon, too eagerly.

"Anyway, am I talking too much?" Ivy corrected herself with another chuckle, as if her speech was too much for Ala, opening the floor to the Grandmaster. "Hi, what's your story, how's your day been?"
​

 

[Ala Quin]

"Oh my." Ala didn't get a chance to reply as Ivy introduced herself.

Her eyes widened with the explanation of the pointy ears. It was delightful. Truly wonderful that Ivy had such a connection with her lineage. Ala was about to comment on it, when Ivy launched into the next round of information.

"Oh." It was a simple happy encouragement to continue.

"Mhmmmmm," Ala acknowledged herself as Grandmaster, and the agreed that it should be someone much more impressive with an eager, wide-eyed nod. "MMMhmmmMMM."

To Ivy's shock at being met by someone important, Ala simply waved it off, while mouthing, "p-shaw."

This was her chance it in. Excitedly Ala opened her mouth, ready to squeal in delight and introduce herself propertly...only for Ivy to continue. "Oh!" Ala squeaked quietly.

She nodded.

And nodded some more.

Then blinked a few times quickly as she took even more information in.

"...make a difference...a-ha..." She barely had time to repeat the thought. Blinking again as she tried to process it all.

Finally, *finally, Ivy stopped to ask Ala a question. But she did not reply immediately, just in case Ivy had more to say, or perhaps ask. After a half moment with her mouth hanging open ready to speak, and a long single syllable drawn out like a hum, Ala finally answered properly.

"My day is so much better now. You are completely adorable!" And she bounced over to give Ivy a completely unrequested hug, before spinning and looping her arm around the newcomer's arm, and leading her on a walk down the hall.

"Stars. The Order doesn't know what its got coming...there are two of us now..."

"My story is pretty long." Ala squeezed into her new bestie, practically skipping alongside. "Don't ask about the second or third time I died...very depressing stories...but life goes on...ironically...and I don't actually know where these come from..." She played with one of her ears. "...it was something added by the cloners on round three..."

| Ivy Maro |​

 

[Ivy Maro]

Ivy nearly opened her mouth to apologize for talking too much again... before Ala Quin looped her arm through Ivy's like they’d known each other for years, not minutes. The warmth of it caught Ivy completely off guard, like walking beside a sister who had already decided she belonged there before Ivy herself had figured it out. Her shoulders relaxed as her legs tried to match Ala's vibrant pace down the corridor. The Grandmaster no longer felt like some unreachable authority figure and more like a tiny burst of sunlight wrapped in robes.

Then Ala casually mentioned dying. Ivy’s face contorted in horrified confusion.

“You died?” She blurted. Her boots nearly caught against the floor as she stumbled half a step. “What in the worlds?!” A beat passed before her expression shifted into immediate concern. “Died as in naturally died, or did somebody kill you?”

Then Ivy remembered the "don’t ask" part, not sure how serious Ala meant by it. “Oh—uh.” Her eyes widened, adding quickly, “Sorry. You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to, but… what the hey?! Who—what—would do such a thing to you?!”

She genuinely didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Ala looked so small and cheerful and harmless that Ivy suddenly experienced a fierce irrational urge to protect her from literally everything in existence forever. Like seeing someone hand a cute little kitten a lightsaber and somehow trusting it with galactic leadership. Ivy almost wanted to grab Ala in an aggressive hug and compress her into a tiny squeaky plush toy.

Instead she settled for staring at Ala in bewildered fascination. “Wait…” Ivy blinked rapidly as another detail finally caught up to her. “So you’re a clone?”

Not in a mean, judgy way. Just a little overwhelmed. Already Ivy wanted to know the entire story. Ala somehow radiated the energy of someone who had lived twelve different lives and survived all of them through sheer optimism.

“Oh and great choice on the ears, by the way," she said playfully, chuckling. "You know it's kinda funny how people with the pointy ears tend to live longer, compared to the average species..."
​

 

[Ala Quin]

Ala's eyes narrowed, then widened, she was clearly biting the inside of her cheek - one of those tells when she was unsure how to reply. "Depends which time you are asking about," she said, regarding the matter of dying.

"Oh...silly...you are more than welcome to ask," Ala said with a gentle swat of Ivy's arm, "life is learning, and our lessons ought to be shared."

Adored. Ala adored the genuine, exuberant emotions of this sweet thing. The master could only scrunch up her nose in delight at the way Ivy encountered each revelation. Such was the joy in the moment, that Ala had led them down a hallway that opened up into the cavernous room housing the power generator. It wasn't exactly her favoured first point for a tour. "Yes...I am a clone...and I didn't get to pick the type of ears I have...that was just...an added feature for Ala four point oh."

Her free hand gestured with overly dramatic flare towards the thrumming generators. "And this...is...our...generator room. Not exactly the gardens that I meant to show you...but maybe more of interest?"

Live longer? "You might be right...over 900 years for me...but I cheated."

| Ivy Maro |​

 

[Ivy Maro]

In other words: Yes. To both dying naturally and being killed, Ivy assumed. The realization was too large and bizarre for her mind to properly grasp hold of. Death itself already felt distant and impossible to her in the way it did for most young-ish people her age, but multiple deaths? Returning afterward? Being able to casually reference different occasions of it like old weather patterns?

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. For once, Ivy didn’t have a clever response, so she let the subject drift on with the current of their walk. Hearing Ala Quin refer to herself as “Ala 4.0” lingered oddly in Ivy’s thoughts. The phrasing sounded so detached, almost clinical, like the way sales droids advertised their own kind with improved interfaces and smoother maneuverability.

She couldn’t imagine what being a clone must feel like... The thought struck something hollow in Ivy's chest. First came pity, then sadness, then guilt for feeling either of those things, as if Ala needed pity. Then shame for overthinking it all in the first place...

Of course this was all just part of the Temple, Ivy reasoned, giving herself grace. A place full of people and beings with lives so wildly different from her own that her brain simply needed time to catch up and process it all. Ala was probably only the beginning. If the Jedi Order housed nine-hundred-year-old cloned Masters with pointy ears and multiple deaths under their belt, then the galaxy was apparently far stranger than Ivy had ever imagined.

So absorbed in their conversation was she that Ivy completely lost track of where the two of them were walking to until the hallway suddenly opened into a vast chamber humming with power.

“Whooaa.” Ivy's eyes widened.

The generator room stretched around them in enormous columns of machinery and pulsing energy conduits, the air alive with vibration and heat. Massive reactors thrummed steadily beneath the Temple like the heartbeat of a sleeping mechanical giant.

"Huh. Dunno why I thought electricity wouldn't exist here," Ivy remarked, hands on her hips as she stared up at the ceiling-high generators. "Makes sense, though." A part of her imagined the Temple to function purely on the Force, like the lights would simply glow because the Jedi willed them to.

It was certainly an interest point for more idle discussion. The sight immediately tugged Ivy into familiar territory, technological instincts and training kicking in.

“Heh, reminds me of the cruiser I work on,” Ivy commented, stepping a little closer to inspect one of the generator systems, comparing layouts and cooling structures. "Not as cramped though. Or loud." She chuckled to herself. The other Navy techs would probably cry tears of joy over this amount of maintenance space.

She turned to look at Ala again, curiosity returning. “Have you… always been a Jedi?”
​

 

[Ala Quin]

There was something special about seeing someone light up when they really loved something. And Ala loved seeing people light up over things they loved. Her grin spread across her face again, admiring the awe and wonder that she saw in Ivy.

For the moment, Ala just watched, as she had been. She had noted Ivy's discomfort with Ala's story, and her struggle to make sense of it. For now, she let it go. Ala had long since decided to not mess about with her story. It was what it was. And it was by no means nothing. Her story was everything, and her decision to choose happiness over the natural path her story lead her down...that was even more.

"I was dropped off at an enclave in the Yavin system just after my 17th birthday," she said in a tone as matter of fact as she could manage.

Leaning in, Ala spoke like a conspiracy was afoot. "I know that looks like...ten years ago for me...but I am actually closer to 40 than 30 these days."

And then, again, she tugged on Ivy's arm, pulling her back into the hallway, and this time...blessedly...headed for the gardens.

"So, what are you hoping that we can do for you Ivy?" Her free hand now lay, almost possessively, on Ivy's arm, while the other was still looped about it. "You didn't just come here to find your long lost twin..."

| Ivy Maro |​

 

[Ivy Maro]

Ivy let herself be gently tugged along, boots falling into step without much resistance as the humming reactor chamber gave way to the quieter pull of the corridor and the promise of gardens beyond. She gave a short laugh at Ala Quin 's comment about her age.

“I can relate. I’m about 30 myself, though most people think I’m closer to 20.” Her grin tilted a little wry as she angled her head toward Ala. “You’d think the gray hair would give it away.” Silver streaks threaded through Ivy's dark brown wavy hair, currently pulled back into a single braid that shifted lightly as she walked. “But you know what they say—laughter is medicine. Smiling helps keep you looking young, I guess.” She gave a little shimmy of her shoulders, squeezing Ala's arm playfully.

When Ala asked what the Jedi could do for her, Ivy let out a small amused huff, as if the answer had been waiting impatiently in the back of her mind. “More lessons,” she said like it was obvious, then laughed at herself for how simple it sounded. “I already had a self-defense class earlier here with Michael Angellus . Do you know him? Anyway, he was a Padawan here and his cousin—I don’t remember his name, big tall guy—he was the one teaching the class and then—” Ivy’s composure cracked completely, and she nearly doubled over mid-step, laughter spilling out of her in an unplanned burst.

“He got punched in the face by a training droid!” That sent her fully over the edge for a moment, shoulders shaking as she tried—and failed—to breathe properly through it. Oh goodness, she should probably feel bad for still laughing about it.

“Ohh, poor Mikey. Anyway…” She wheezed, straightening a little while still smiling hard enough to hurt her cheeks. “We got him an ice pack, he’s doing alright, but anyway!”

She forced herself to reel it in, smoothing her expression back to something resembling professionalism, though amusement still flickered in her eyes like it hadn’t quite finished with her yet. “Ahem. Yes— If I’m allowed to roam around here and check out the library or get a crash-course on what it means to be a Jedi around here, I’d very much appreciate it..?” Her pace slowed slightly as she looked to Ala for confirmation. There were probably more proper Jedi Temple-ish ways to say what she was looking for, around here, but Ivy didn't know what she didn't know, if there was a visitor’s pass or padawan lite demo version she could try out here or what.

“I work at the Fleet right now, and I managed to get four days off to kill before I gotta go back, so I thought I’d spend it here at the Temple and learn all I can and make the most of it before I go back.” She gestured vaguely, as if that might help Ala better understand what Ivy needed.

She shifted a little, uncertainly. “Um— I know I’m not a member here, so don’t worry, I got a hotel across the street,” she added, a nervous chuckle slipping in at the end. Like she was trying very hard to not be an inconvenience as a guest, while also clearly being very interested in everything anyway.
​

 

[Ala Quin]

A soft, increasingly warm smile settling onto her features as Ivy spoke. When Ivy pointed out the silver streaks threaded through her dark hair, Ala paused their walk for a brief second. She reached up with her free hand, her fingers gently examining a few strands like she were a scientist.

"I think it's beautiful," Ala said. She leaned in slightly, a playful spark dancing in her eyes. "A little silver means wisdom, right? It suits you. Very pretty."

With a chuckle, she looped her arm right back through Ivy's, squeezing tight as Ivy launched into the tale of Michael's training mishap.
The moment Ivy cracked and doubled over laughing, Ala couldn't help it, she threw her head back and laughed right along with her. Hearing about Michael Angellus getting levelled by a training droid brought a wicked smirk to the Grandmaster's face, followed by a theatrical roll of her eyes.

"Oh, poor Michael," Ala gasped through her giggles, shaking her head. "He means well, bless him. I'm glad you patched him up." Her smirk widened as Ivy mentioned the teacher. "And Connell! That big lug is my adopted nephew. I taught him a thing or two, though clearly, he needs to teach his students how to duck."

The doorway ahead expanded, and Ala pulled Ivy across the threshold into the Jedi gardens.

The transition was breathtaking. The air instantly shifted, carrying the crisp, sweet scent of blooming Naboo flora and the gentle, damp mist of distant waterfalls. Sunlight filtered through an impossibly high crystalline dome, splashing vibrant greens, soft pinks, and deep purples across the stone paths. Streams of perfectly clear water meandered between moss-covered meditation platforms, and the ambient hum of the Temple was replaced by the tranquil, symphonic rustle of leaves and the faint, soothing chirp of local songbirds. It was a pocket of absolute, untouchable peace.

Ala didn't let go of Ivy's arm, continuing to cling to her happily as they strolled down a shaded path. She listened to Ivy's nervous logistical rambling about navy leave, hotel rooms, and a 'Padawan lite demo version' with growing, amused outrage.

"Heavens no!" Ala gasped, stopping dead in her tracks and looking up at Ivy with wide, scandalized eyes. "A hotel? Across the street? Absolutely not. I won't hear of it! You are staying right here in the Sanctuary. We have more than enough room for you. And if the Temple rooms feel a bit too...traditional, I have a few lovely places off-site I can work out."

She patted Ivy's arm reassuringly, giving her a brilliant, dazzling smile.

"Four days isn't a lot of time, but we can make it a whirlwind," Ala mused softly, tilting her head. "You don't need a visitor's pass, Ivy. In fact, if you want a crash course on what it means to be a Jedi here...I can make myself available. I'd be delighted to give you some personal, one-on-one instruction. If you'll have me, of course."

| Ivy Maro |​

 

[Ivy Maro]

Ivy blushed at Ala Quin 's gentle touch, the kind of shy little pink warmth that crept up fast and betrayed her every time someone was unexpectedly sweet to her. She ducked her head for a second, smiling into it, then gave a sheepish little laugh. “Thanks,” she said, before leaning in as though she were sharing a secret. “Actually, it’s not premature gray.” Her grin turned a little more amused. “My dad’s hair is silver, my mom’s is brown, so that's how I got a blend of the two.”

She lifted a hand toward one of the silver strands, almost fondly. Strange really, how so many Humans would rush to cover something like that up. Ivy had never felt the need. Never felt pressured to pretend at being something younger or neater than she was. She liked the way it looked. Liked that it made her feel a little different in a way that was entirely hers.

“But I do like it,” she agreed proudly, her voice brightening. “I think it does make me look pretty. Like silver tinsel on Life Day trees.” The comparison came out a little cutely, and she smiled to herself as though pleased by her own description.

Then Ala mentioned Michael Angellus and Connel, and Ivy’s eyebrows shot up before a laugh escaped her. “You know them? Is everyone related around here?” She blurted, half-joking, half-seriously impressed. This place was starting to feel less like a Temple and more like one giant, impossibly connected family tree.

And then, all at once, Ivy remembered.

Michael had already told her Ala’s name. Right there in the hangar. And she had completely forgotten it. Ivy’s face shifted with a brief flash of mortified realization, followed by self-deprecating laughter as the memory finally clicked into place. “Oh wait, it's you!" Another bout of laughter. "Silly me! I can't believe I forgot!—Ha-ha!—Michael told me about you, in the hangar. Ala Quin, right? The 'boss lady'? I can't believe I forgot your name!" She wheezed, shaking her head at herself. "Ooooh—ha-ha—Sorry! I've always been better with faces than names."

The embarrassment faded quickly enough, though a tiny knot of uncertainty remained tucked in Ivy's expression when Michael’s earlier comment drifted back through her mind. He had said something about blowing it with Ala, wanting to apologize. Ivy didn’t know what that was about, and honestly she couldn’t picture him doing anything terrible to someone who seemed this kind and open and bright. But she also barely knew either of them. It wasn’t her business to carry someone else’s secrets, and she wasn’t about to become the middle-man in any personal mess between them. So she let it pass, smoothing her expression before it had a chance to linger.

When Ala reacted to the idea of her staying in a hotel across the street, Ivy blinked in startled delight before her whole face transformed. Her hands curled into little excited fists and she bounced on the balls of her feet in an adorable, contained shuffle of pure joy. “Really?” She gasped, almost breathless. “You and me? OhmygoodnessI'msoexcited! Yes, please!”

Yes to all of it! The offer of a room in the Temple nearly made her giddy on the spot. And then the offer of personal instruction did the rest. Ivy gazed at her as if Ala had just handed her the stars.

She swallowed, trying to get a little more of her composure back, though the grin never left her face. “Honestly I wasn’t sure if I’d like the Temple enough to try and ask for more time off,” she admitted, a little sheepish but earnest. “But now? I think I just might." Her grin turned sly with determination, already drafting the speech for her supervisor, in her head.

She glanced around the gardens, serene and beautiful and impossibly calm, and her expression softened into thoughtful seriousness.

“Actually I'd love the full traditional Jedi experience,” Ivy said, nodding with conviction. “So traditional room it is, please, if you don't mind.” She gave Ala a small, certain smile. “If it turns out to be too much of a culture shock, I’ll let you know.” She wasn't betting on it though, determined to prove that she could hack it out like the other proper Temple Jedi who lived here.

Her fingers brushed lightly against the braid at her shoulder, and her tone gentled a little as she finally said the part she’d been carrying around in the back of her mind. “I’m just… not sure if I could join the Order for some time. Even if I wanted to, right now." She looked down for a beat, then back up again, an expression of worry and self-doubt on her face. "I know that all Jedi aren’t the same and that lots of them have lives outside the Temple. But I just barely started my career as a starfighter pilot and I'd like to, well...'settle in' with that first before tackling anything new. I feel like I'd need to take a break from the Navy if I'm to focus on getting that solid foundation as a Jedi here first, before running loose into the wild," she ended with a humored note.

Finished, Ivy looked up at Ala with a small, apologetic smile and quiet hope in her eyes, searching for understanding from the Grandmaster. It probably sounded as though Ivy had already made up her mind to join the Order someday—and maybe deep down she had, long ago. The hesitation wasn't about whether Ivy wanted this path. It was about whether she was ready to commit to it.
​

 

[Ala Quin]

Ala positively beamed when Ivy declared that she liked her silver hair. There was something deeply refreshing about hearing someone say it so openly. There was no awkward dismissal. No shrinking away from the compliment. No desperate attempt to explain why they weren't actually pretty after all. Instead, Ivy simply liked herself. The Grandmaster's expression softened immediately.

"Oh, that is wonderful." Her voice carried a warmth that suggested she genuinely meant it. "Never stop doing that."

Ala reached up and gently tapped Ivy's nose with a finger. "The galaxy already has enough people who spend all day inventing reasons not to like themselves. It needs more like you." And then, because apparently she couldn't help herself, she leaned into Ivy's shoulder just a little as they walked.

"I happen to agree with you, for the record." The smile she offered afterward was entirely too pleased with itself.

The conversation shifted quickly enough when Ivy wondered aloud if everyone in the Temple was related. Ala burst into laughter. "Oh stars, no." But then she though on it some more. "...well." Her nose scrunched. "...not technically."

Her eyebrows wriggled mischievously. "I did say adopted."

The gardens stretched around them as they walked, sunlight catching in Ala's curls while she spoke.

"When I was dropped off at the Yavin enclave, I didn't know anyone. Not a single soul. I was seventeen, terrified, and absolutely convinced they were going to realize they'd made a terrible mistake." Her smile faltered, tears welling in her eyes. "Then Connell's father greeted me."

Ala's smile turned fond. "And that was that."

She waved a hand dramatically. "I attached myself to him like a particularly determined space-limpet." The declaration carried absolutely no shame. "He became my big brother before he had any say in the matter." Ala nodded firmly. "Which means Connell, when he arrived, became my nephew. Again, before he had any say in the matter."

Then she turned her head toward Ivy. The eyebrow wriggle returned. "You've been warned."

The moment Ivy practically exploded with excitement over training together, Ala stopped walking entirely. The joy that crossed her face was so immediate and so complete that it practically illuminated the pathway. For one brief moment, centuries of discipline surrendered completely. Her hands flew together. Her eyes widened. And she actually bounced. "Really?!"

The word escaped before she could stop it. Ala covered her mouth immediately afterward, accomplishing absolutely nothing. The grin remained. "Well then."

She straightened with all the dignity of a woman who had very recently bounced in excitement. "Full traditional Jedi experience it shall be." The declaration was made with all the solemnity of a royal decree.

A second later she looped herself around Ivy's arm again. "But only the parts you want." Her voice softened. "I will put no pressure on you, Ivy."

"If your life is taking you toward the Navy right now, then wonderful. Be a pilot." Ala squeezed her arm gently. "If it takes you somewhere else later, wonderful. Do that."

Her gaze drifted toward the gardens around them. "The Force is not a jealous thing. It doesn't demand that you abandon every other dream before it agrees to teach you."

Then a playful note returned to her voice. "Besides." She looked up at Ivy. "I'd much rather give you whatever training I can."

A thoughtful hum followed. "Because if I don't, some Sith is eventually going to find you." Ala narrowed her eyes dramatically. "And then they'll start telling you how special and misunderstood you are."

The Grandmaster gasped in mock horror. "They'll offer forbidden secrets. Probably a cool cloak. Completely unacceptable."

"I refuse to let you become someone's Sith apprenticeship project."

"I've only just found you."

| Ivy Maro |​

 

[Ivy Maro]

The gentle boop of Ala Quin 's finger against Ivy's nose made her blink in surprise before a bright little giggle escaped her. In that moment, Ala felt less like the Grandmaster of an ancient Order and more like some centuries-old fairy godmother who had wandered out of one of Ivy's childhood storybooks specifically to tell her she was doing okay.

Ivy ducked her head slightly, unable to stop smiling. Confidence wasn't always easy, but she was trying to own it, fake it until you make it, at least. If she kept choosing to love the little things about herself—the silver in her hair, the parts that stood out instead of blending in—hopefully that confidence would eventually stop feeling like something she practiced and become something she simply had.

The gardens around them were breathtaking. Everywhere Ivy looked there seemed to be another path disappearing beneath flowering arches, another quiet fountain, another hidden corner begging to be explored. Under different circumstances she absolutely would have gotten distracted. She wanted to investigate everything, to ask questions about every tree and statue and tiny architectural detail.

But right now, Ala had her full attention. As Ala spoke about arriving at Yavin frightened and alone, Ivy's expression softened. She tightened her arm gently around Ala's, listening carefully and nodding quietly whenever it felt right. She watched Ala's face. The way the Grandmaster's smile shifted, the tone beneath her words, the tears gathering in her eyes. Something in Ivy's chest tightened, honored that Ala would share something so personal with her. Hearing that the Grandmaster herself had once been young and worried she'd made a mistake and feared she didn't belong, made Ivy feel a little less alone.

"Imagine if we met then..." Ivy chuckled softly to herself, wondering how different her interaction would be with a seventeen-year old Ala Quin.

The thought of "adopted" family lingered in Ivy's mind, settling heavily and gently all at once. Ivy had spent years convincing herself she'd made peace with being alone. She had thrown herself into work, into flight, into discovering new worlds and new experiences. She had learned how to stand on her own two feet without depending on anyone else's approval or affection to keep her upright.

To lose family... To separate oneself from blood ties, to grieve people who were still alive, to survive emotional wounds inflicted by those who had been supposed to love her. The idea of belonging to another "family" again.. Of letting herself depend on people... Of loving them enough that it could hurt her... Scared her. There was a fear that whispered ugly things: that love could become control, that acceptance could become obligation, that "family" could teach helplessness disguised as devotion.

Ivy wasn't sure she was ready to hand someone that kind of power over her again. Not yet.

Thankfully, Ala rescued her from the heaviness of those thoughts by lighting up with matching excitement over Jedi training. The seriousness melted from Ivy's face, her grin returned, soaking in Ala's promise not to pressure her. "Only the parts you want." The words settled warmly inside Ivy. There was something sisterly about Ala. Something motherly, too. Wise encouragement wrapped in bright enthusiasm. Love without demands, guidance without expectation. Ivy found herself quietly basking in it.

Then Ala mentioned the Sith. Ivy's eyes widened, her full attention snapped back to the Grandmaster with all the focus of a child listening to a parent's cautionary bedtime story. When Ala gasped dramatically about cool cloaks being completely unacceptable, Ivy's expression brightened mischievously. "And cookies?" She added. Her eyes sparkled. "The chocolate chip kind?" She pressed a hand dramatically against her chest. "I don't think I could resist." The declaration was delivered with all the theatrical tragedy of someone facing an impossible moral dilemma.

Then she laughed. Beneath the joke and the playfulness, Ivy was touched deeply. Ala's protectiveness wrapped around her like a blanket Ivy hadn't realized she'd missed.

"I've only just found you."

Ivy looked at Ala as if she were staring reverently into a mirror. The two young women were practically the same height, with nearly the same skin tone. Slightly pointed ears, bright eyes, easy smiles, bubbly energy. Mischief tucked beneath kindness. In some way, Ivy felt like she had found a reflection of herself. Not who she was, but who she could be... What her future self might look like, as a Master of the Jedi Order.

"Aww..." Ivy's voice softened with affection. "I'm glad I found you too." Before she could overthink herself out of it, she leaned over and gave Ala a quick hug.

Giggling, she stepped back and brightened up again. "You're right." Ivy stomped one foot against the path and clenched both fists, her expression darkening with adorable determination. "I must learn to protect myself from the Sith in case they find me." She looked up at Ala with sparkling eyes. "I need a Sith class!" The declaration came with all the seriousness of a child preparing for battle against imaginary monsters.

Then she paused. Ivy's gaze lowered briefly before lifting back toward Ala. This time there was something quieter in her expression. More cautious.

"Have you ever met a Sith?" She asked softly, as if speaking too loudly might summon one from the shadows. Curiosity mingled with uncertainty in Ivy's eyes. The brightness in her hazel orbs dimmed just enough for concern to show through.

Stories were one thing, but Ala's protectiveness, the certainty in her voice... suggested experience. And Ivy suddenly found herself wanting to understand exactly what kind of darkness the Jedi had spent generations teaching others how to face.
​

 

[Ala Quin]

Ala laughed softly at the thought of meeting when they were younger, her eyes drifting upward as though she could somehow spot that younger version of herself wandering the gardens. "I think I would have liked that." The admission came easily. "Though, in fairness, seventeen-year-old Ala was a terribly invasive species."

Her nose scrunched. "You would've woken up on day one and discovered you had a roommate." She winced. "Not because anyone assigned one." She offered a toothy grimace. "Just because I decided."

Then a grin she flashed Ivy was entirely unrepentant. "I was very lonely. Which meant I became everyone's problem." Fortunately for the galaxy, very little had changed.

When Ivy hugged her, Ala didn't hesitate for even a moment. She simply melted.

There was no awkwardness or uncertainty. One moment Ivy was leaning toward her, and the next Ala had wrapped both arms around her and settled comfortably into the embrace as though she'd been doing it for years. Her eyes closed briefly. The scent of gardens, sunlight, and whatever impossibly Ivy-like thing clung to the other woman filled her senses. Ala breathed it in, content simply to exist there for a second.

It was nice. Very nice. When she finally stepped back, her smile seemed brighter than before.

Then Ivy declared her vulnerability to chocolate chip cookies. Ala's expression immediately became grave. "First it's cookies." She nodded solemnly. "The next day genocide."

A finger pointed accusingly toward the heavens. "That is exactly how it happens."

When Ivy announced she required a Sith class, Ala immediately straightened her posture and folded her hands behind her back like a lecturer preparing to address a classroom. "Excellent," she said with a sharp nod, "lesson one: if someone starts a sentence with 'the Jedi don't want you to know this...' run."

"If they offer cookies while saying it, run even faster."

Satisfied that this was an important educational foundation, Ala resumed their walk through the gardens. The smile lingered for a while afterward, though it softened when Ivy's question finally arrived. Have you ever met a Sith?

The Grandmaster was quiet for several steps. The fountains burbled nearby. Somewhere overhead, a bird called out from within the canopy beneath the crystal dome. "Many," she said thoughtfully.

"I've spoken with them. Fought them. Tried to save some of them. Stars, I have even helped some find the path back to the light."

"The truly dangerous ones are often kind. Patient. Charming even. They know exactly what to say."

A small sigh escaped her. "They find the hurt first. They find the part of you that feels alone. Or frightened. Or angry. They tell you that pain is proof the world has wronged you. And sometimes they're not even entirely wrong."

The smile returned then, smaller and sadder, but genuine as she looked intently at Ivy.

"That's what makes it difficult." She reached over and squeezed Ivy's arm gently.

"The best defense against a Sith isn't a lightsaber," she said, eyes with the responsibility of hundreds of Jedi on her mind, "It's knowing yourself."

| Ivy Maro |​

 

[Ivy Maro]

Ivy chuckled softly at Ala Quin 's stories about being younger, trying to picture the Grandmaster doing such things so absurdly charming it nearly made Ivy snort. She liked Ala’s humor.

“Aye aye, Captain." She gave a little military salute, a hint of alarm in her eyes at the idea of ever meeting a Sith who might tempt her with more than just cookies. The joke landed easily, but beneath Ivy's expression was a quiet, wary understanding, as if some part of her already knew how dangerous sweet words could be.

The smile faded from her face as Ala's tone changed, solemn and intent, drinking in every word when Ala spoke of the Sith in earnest. Ivy’s gaze dropped for a moment to the path beneath their feet, then lifted again to Ala with thoughtful seriousness, trying to collect some Grandmaster wisdom before it slipped away, like each sentence from Ala might matter later in a way Ivy could not yet predict.

“Hm.” A small, sad smile touched her mouth, half-amused at herself, half-struck by the strange ache that stirred in her chest. Some of what Ala said sounded uncomfortably familiar. Not the Force or the Sith, but the shape of it.

The charm. The patience. The way someone could see the soft, vulnerable places in you and know exactly how to press on them.

“Sounds like heartbreak, too,” Ivy said quietly, almost wearily, the thought slipping out before she could fully polish it. “People who try to charm you, I mean.” Her eyes drifted briefly between the gardens and the ground, lost in memory for a moment. Not all dangerous people wore dark robes or carried red blades. Some of them could just as easily be called one of your 'friends', or co-workers...

Ivy drew in and released a deep sigh, nodding her head in agreement with Ala. “Knowing yourself is the best defense against regular people, too,” she murmured with a small smile. She liked that Ala wasn't the kind of person who insisted everything had to stay bright and bubbly all the time. That there was room here for honesty, and heaviness, and stillness.

“Thanks,” Ivy said softly. She squeezed Ala’s arm a little tighter, the gesture more grounding than dramatic, letting herself lean into the comfort of having a girl friend beside her, someone steady to hold onto while her thoughts settled and the anxious knot in her chest loosened.

There would be time later for more Sith lessons and deeper talks and whatever other hard truths the universe had waiting around the corner. For now, she could simply walk through the gardens beside Ala and breathe.

“Um...” Ivy glanced sideways at the Grandmaster, suddenly remembering Ala was, in fact, a very busy important person. “Is there anywhere you have to be?” The innocent concern had barely left her mouth before her body betrayed her. A yawn yanked through her so suddenly it made her eyes water, and she lifted a hand to her mouth in mortified surprise. “Wow, I’m tired,” Ivy admitted through the yawn, then laughed at herself, smacking at the air near her lips in a ridiculous little gesture as if she could physically shoo away the sleep trying to settle over her face. She blinked a few times, shaking her head to clear the fog.

Naboo’s rhythm still felt strange to her. Ivy wasn't entirely sure what time it was, only that she had last slept on a Republic cruiser before what already felt had stretched into several days, since she arrived at the Temple. Meeting Michael, attending a self-defense class, meeting Ala, seeing a chunk of the Temple grounds. It had been a very full day of new sights and new people.

And now that the adrenaline from meeting the Grandmaster had begun to ebb, Ivy could feel the tiredness sinking into her bones like a slow tide. She gave Ala a sheepish little smile, leaning more of her weight against Ala's petite frame and resting her head playfully on the Grandmaster's shoulder for a few steps as she pretended to fall asleep on Ala.

Maybe a nap first. Just a small one...
​