Private Invi(s)ncible

[Zaavik Perl]

|Jedi Temple, Coruscant|
|1200 Local Time|
|False hope, perhaps, but the truth never got in my way.|​

Assigned a master. For some reason, it sounded rather degrading. Assigned, as if for some reason he wasn't good enough to be chosen. He'd mulled it over for some time, what exactly he'd done wrong for them to resort to an assignment. The frustration and self-doubt that followed were rather antithetical to the very ideology he'd been taught. It didn't seem fair, every test, every trial, every exercise lead him to believe he was a step ahead of everyone else. It made him feel real stupid once he'd been finally left behind. Maybe it was hubris, or maybe it really was an injustice, bad luck even.

The banging, hissing, and screeching of the ongoing reconstruction of the temple made it hard to think. Not that it mattered, such thoughts weren't in any way productive. As much as he wanted to be at peace with the circumstances, something just wouldn't allow him to let go. Being a Jedi isn't about being the best, or better than anyone else. He had to remind himself of that fact quite frequently. Competitiveness was a trait no mentor could ever quite mold out of him, and it was the source of many a headache. Always needed to get better, to be better, the best, good enough.

Staring at the airspeeder traffic from the massive windows of one of the temples many corridors, he waited. It was far from a formal meeting, which made it feel even more degrading. No third party to introduce, no overseeing or supervision, just meeting in a hallway. Holding out hope that he wasn't going to be met with some washed-up fluke of a master seemed more and more futile by the second. Best case it was just some unconventional wildcard, or someone with reluctance to take a padawan. That didn't exactly sound like it'd make the best learning experience, though.

Well, beggars can't be choosers after all.

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: M A S T E R //:
//: C O R U S C A N T //:
//: L O Y A L //: Zaavik Perl

Finally, everything that she had been working towards was starting to bore fruit. The Jedi were constantly rebuilding, which meant it was time to start rebuilding another anchor of the Jedi. Despite Allyson knowing what she wanted, with her own missions taking priority, the other Masters had to help. She had made her requests for the Masters to keep an eye on the padawans in the temple. If they had shown skill that would fit the Shadow tasks, they would be assigned to her. Training would be hard since she was the only active Jedi Shadow. She had Ryv, but the man had other responsibilities.

The door slid open, and Zaavik would be visually greeted by a woman, she looked nothing like the Masters that roamed the halls of the Coruscant Temple. Clad in typical spacer clothing, the woman’s pride was in the Corellian First Class Bloodstripes, the red contrasted against the navy blue fabric that finished the classic look. Brown locks cascaded back as her hand ran through her hair, trying to figure out what to say. It didn’t take an empath to know the boy wasn’t the happiest to be in his seat.

“Hello, Padawan Dagoth,” it felt awkward to be so formal, but she didn’t want to seem too far from the Jedi traditions - not yet that is. Allowing herself to think through the Force, she could pick up on small nuances of his frustration. It was apparent the assignment wasn’t what he was looking for when it came to finding his Master. Allyson cleared her throat and then continued, trying to not let her nerves get the best of her.

“I apologize for the awkwardness of our meeting. I’m Allyson Locke, I’m a Jedi Shadow within the Jedi Order and a Special Agent with the Strategic Intelligence Agency. With me being off-world for different missions, I have been unable to choose a padawan.” Allyson had examined his file when it came across her desk, he fits the build for a Shadow, and in actuality, despite him being assigned, she did choose him. A smile crossed her face as she continued. “You’ve shown exceptional skill, and I’m honored to be your Master. I hope you’re alright working off-world for most of your training. I understand the Order doesn’t give this choice to their students, but I was never one to force someone to do something they don’t want to do. So Zaavik Dagoth,” Allyson paused and nodded her head. “Do you accept being my Padawan Learner?”

 

[Zaavik Perl]

Zaavik took a half-step backward a the woman entered, performing a slight bow. Her rather casual clothing was a stark contrast to the monk-like robes that he was adorned in. It wasn't until she spoke to him that he even made the connection that she was the master in question. He'd expected an elderly individual wearing heavy wool and a stern look. She looked much younger than he had expected, young for a master even, but he wasn't really going to question someone who'd earned their title. The initial impression was still a bit jarring when considering his expectations. What was she doing dressed as if she belonged behind the yoke of a freighter?

Honored to be his master? Does he accept? Her kind smile did a fair job of defusing the tension and awkwardness of the meeting, but she really doubled-down on the unconventional first impression. The initial frustrations and nerves converted slowly into confusion and suspicion. "I uh-" his teeth clenched together as he trailed off. It was clear that she was a master, he could feel it from the pheromone-safe distance which he stood. "You're honored?" he asked with a look of flabbergastation.

"Of course I accept, but I get the feeling that 'assignment' might have been an unintentional deception, and on top of that I'm more than a little confused," a crimson hand gestured up and down to her attire. "Are you a pilot? A shadow, or something? I don't mean any disrespect but I expected someone old and underneath a blanket of itchy fabric," he winced slightly as he had a sudden second-thought about his choice of words. "I mean, I'm not complaining, don't get me wrong. It just broke the image in my head that I was uh, kinda dreading, not gonna lie," a small hint of relief broke through his otherwise confused diction.

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Zaavik Perl]

Ope. Double-posted.