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Aayla Shan
He blinked a few times in confusion as she said that this "gi" had called him that. He didn't know what she meant, and she did not appear to be interested in obliging his curiosity. So he left it for now, as confused as he was. Her story was more important regardless. She seemed to take his insinuation that she was arrogant rather well, given the circumstances. Though he could be reading it wrong too. He never quite made up his mind properly on these sorts of things until they were more clearly set in stone.
Of course he had asked for permission. Being allowed to ask, and if the person was comfortable being asked, were two different things when they weren't on the field of battle. This was not a mission. He was a concerned co-worker doing his best to help someone on his team. It was as simple as that. Common courtesy and respect were a must for any Jedi. Or any person, really. She told a story he had heard several times before across his long career. A student who refused to be taught by anyone but a Master who's teachings they held as sacred. Holding out hope that they would return.
It was one he knew too. He sighed.
"I was 17 when a band of slavers ambushed my Master and I" he began to recount.
"I was taken. Strapped with a collar to nullify my abilities. Wasn't physically strong enough to free myself."
He pulled back his long hair to reveal a faded scar on his neck. Imprints from the collar. A reminder that he had once been a slave.
"It was horrible. The things I saw, the things I experienced. I still dream of it sometimes. But after a year of hard labor, they decided it was time for me to go on the auction block. I had developed a strong build after the hell they put me through, and they thought I was now appealing enough -- and obedient enough -- to be sold. For what, I couldn't tell you. But on that day, one slaver who was quite happy to see me go, kicked me down and pressed his boot to my neck. Hard. Decided it was a fine parting gift to ensure I remembered that no matter where I went, I would always be in someone's service. At that point I had been beaten and worked so severely over the last year that I could barely remember my own name, when my collar cracked... I began to feel the Force come back to me, and with it, I remembered my Master. I remembered what had brought me there and I became desperate to get out and get back to Coruscant, to make sure he was safe. To let him know that I was safe, that he didn't have to look for me anymore."
That bond was a something he wanted to make sure to emphasize. She needed to know that he understood where she was coming from.
"I ripped that collar open with that crack, no matter how bad it shocked me. I started an uprising, and eventually I was free. My memories were hazy for a little while due to my damaged psyche and I wandered from place to place for a bit, but I was eventually led back to the Jedi and some of my memories returned over time, enough to badger the Council about my Master. And... That's when I found out that he was gone. He'd told the Council he had gone after me. And they never saw or heard from him again. Never found a body."
He bit his lip. It was always a tough story to tell.
"I was just like you. I refused to be taught by another Master. I wanted my Master, and I would wait for him until the end of time. But time passed me by. Another year and a half went on, and he was still gone. I had to accept it, as much as I didn't like it. I was eventually re-assigned, something I agreed to only begrudgedly. Sadly, that didn't work out well either."
He shook his head and sighed in exasperation.
"Not gonna lie, she was an impatient, inattentive Master. I saw her maybe once between our first session and her telling me she was putting me up for Knight. A month later. The Republic needed generals for their war. They needed fighters. Soldiers with lightsabers. They didn't care how, they just needed it now. And she was a general first, a teacher second. So I was promoted, with all my flaws. All my issues that stemmed from spending years without proper guidance. Also an injured psyche that came back to haunt me years after the fact, since they never thought to get me help."
He shrugged his shoulders. He was never letting them live that down. Or he wouldn't if they were alive for him to bother.
"I sorely wish I had the right Master to help me finish my training the right way. It's taken me a decade to figure this krap out on my own. I wasn't ready to be a Knight, I sure as hell wasn't ready to be a Master. But there I was. Knight at 20. Master at 21. Was even Grandmaster for a few weeks before internal corruption ousted me real quick. Wasn't ready to handle any of that. Never had the chance to be taught. So if you want my advice? Mourn your Master, as is the right thing to do. But don't let their teachings, their legacy be in vain by letting them stop you from doing what will help you as a Jedi. The best way you can honor your Master is by being the best Jedi that you can be. And that sometimes means accepting some help. Force knows I could have used it."
Oh right, a loose end there...
"Right, also. All that Jedi stuff? Wasn't the Silvers, thank kark. Old Order I was in. Corrupt as could be, corrupt... With a C. Small wonder they folded really."