[sub]Collab with Bea and Ruby[/sub]

It didn't matter to Satele, and there was more safety in the heavy two seater speeder than on one of the bikes. She nodded along with the idea of the Padawan driving the speeder and started the process of helping the heavy Mandalorian into the speeder, his big hands grabbing at handholds just in the cabin of the speeder so that his even bigger arms could pull his mostly dead weight into the speeder. He didn't want any more help from either Jedi than was absolutely necessary. Broken and bloody the Mandalorian would still provide for himself as much as physically able. 

But it came at a cost, one obvious in the heavy labored breathing of the armored warrior. The helmet of "Grim" wasn't too much unlike more traditional helmets of the Mandalorians, pre-Crusader. It was only unusual in how smooth it's surface was, however dull, there wasn't a single spike on Grim's armor. No ornamentation at all covered the armor of the Mandalorian clan leader, only built in weapons and utilities. A killer that was caught inbetween a desperate clan and his own code. The dull blue helmet was trimmed in silver along the shadowed visor turned to stare at the Padawan.

And stayed there. Staring. 

It wasn't until after Satele punched in the auto-drive function to return to the ship on Brye's bike and got upon her own that the Mandalorian even made a noise. "You really wanna be the Padawan to the Galaxy's most dangerous Jedi? Her Padawans tend to see a lot of conflict. A [b]lot[/b] of conflict. Think that's any accident kid?"

-	-	-	-	-	-	-

Brye saw that nod of approval, so no words needed to be spoken further. She moved to help the Mandalorian onto the speeder. It was obvious he didn't want their help, but that didn't stop Brye from making sure he was securely on the machine before climbing on as well. Moments went by and Bryethe watched as her speeder made its way back towards the Starshine, or so she hoped. 

Satele climbed up onto her bike, and that's when Brye felt a pair of hidden eyes starting at her. She glanced down at Grim, his visor hiding any little part of his eyes she might've been able to see. 

[b][i]"You really wanna be the Padawan to the Galaxy's most dangerous Jedi?"[/i][/b]

Grim's question stung a little bit. None of what he said about conflict was too surprising to Brye. She had been lucky, and the last two years with Satele hadn't been filled with missions, but she had also received her fair share. What had happened this day was the first taste of brutal combat Brye had got since the incident with her former Master years ago. 

"She saved my life two years ago, she was there without hesitation. I've overcome some serious obstacles with Master Shan, conflict is just another part of the war. It's a part of being a Padawan and a Jedi. So no, I don't think it's an accident, but that's not going to stop me from staying by her side, as her Padawan."
Brye watched Grim for a long few moments, truth in every word she spoke. No amount of conflict would sway her loyalty towards her Master, she would let nothing change that. 

“The war? You talk like the war never ended. Tell me, Jedi, is that how you see this? Do you think you’re transporting an enemy to an enemy base to save his life?”

Brye frowned at his question, looking down at the Mandalorian before back up at the scene around them.
“It hasn’t ended. There is never peace. Today is just one example. Master Shan respects you, that’s how I see it. You’re not an enemy in my eyes but you’re definitely not my ally. I see it as: my Master wants to take her friend to his camp to save his life. Is that good enough for you?” 

The Mandalorian visor gave no hint at any facial expression or reaction beneath. It’s stare was infinite and dark. The voice of the warrior wasn’t much better; a deep thing dulled by boredom or pain or both. In fact it wasn’t until the Padawan gave that final little twist of ‘good enough’ that his voice changed at all.

It grew in intensity, and dropped in volume. The sensation of hard, deliberate stare was impossible to miss...even through the dark visor of a Mandalorian. “Keep your attitude, girl, you haven’t earned it but you’ll damn well have to that’s for sure. You’re the Padawan to the ‘Grand Master’,” an emphasis placed on title--the mocking kind, “which would mean nothing to me if I hadn’t seen her and fought her myself. You know what? She is the best you got. You were already badly losing the war. Between the Sith and the Mandalorians and the Chiss you hadn’t a prayer in the Galaxy. We’re better organized, more efficient, and far more ruthless. In the past you’ve been able to overcome that. Sometimes with science, sometimes with politics. Take us. It took fucking Revan to beat us. Know what you’ve never had before and never had since? Darth-damn-Revan, kid. I see her...I think to myself it had to be like watching him.”

Out of nowhere the warrior turned his head away from the Padawan, and stared ahead. They were nearing the outer perimeter. “If you’re smart what you saw tonight scared you a little bit: not the Sith, your Master. She got triggered and there goes a Sith head rolling on the ground. Not exactly up to her own standard or your precious fucking Jedi Code, is it?”

Then the strangest sound appeared from the Mandalorian: he started to chuckle in some fit of dark amusement. “It tickles me a little, because it’s exactly the one thing you need most in this war you aren’t winning. You don’t just need her, you need Revan from her. And just wait until we pull up to my village...you’re about to see some serious shit girl.”

-	-	-	-	-	
[b][i]“Keep your attitude, girl…”[/i][/b]

Brye listened to the Mandalorian, listened to every word. She didn’t respect this man, but should she? He preached about Revan, about the war and how they would’ve lost without him; said nothing about the collective effort the Jedi had put forth. No, to Grim it was about one person, one Force-wielder had won them the war, and if not for Revan they would’ve have been eradicated.

[b][i]“If you’re smart what you saw tonight scared you a little bit…”[/i][/b]

The young Padawan couldn’t deny it. When she had watched Satele pull that Sith away and decapitate him in one swift movement, no hesitation and no remorse, it had widened Brye’s eyes. It didn’t change her respect for Satele, no, it would be hard to pull Brye away from the respect she had for her Master, and to forget all the experiences that helped grow that respect. 

The Mandalorian began to chuckle, at least that’s what Brye assumed from the sounds he was making. The young Jedi wondered if Satele knew this, or felt this way, or had any clue that this was how Grim felt about her. That she should become the Revan of the current time. Could they really win the war if Satele turned that direction? Perhaps, but, what would it do to her? Brye caught the tail end of what Grim was saying, about his village as they arrived. The grip on the throttle of her speeder tightened and the Padawan made sure to stick as close to Satele as she could. 

Whatever was to come wouldn’t be good.

“Even when you Jedi say the right thing, you say it the wrong way.” He sighed, playful if you were any kind of read on that sort of thing, and prepared to get helped out. He saw four of his, including the girl who had made the deal with the bizarre Sith, and ten of the bizarre Sith themselves. “And here we go.”