[right][sub]In collaboration with Heat and Ruby[/sub][/right]
[hr]

The flight back to the temple had felt long to San Anin, as if the very fabric of time itself had slowed its movement just to torture her already tired mind. The look that Kyla had given her after she attempted to kill the Dark Sider… The dark sider, she was the one that plagued her mind and caused the wretched thoughts and memories to come barreling back into the forefront of her brain. For a temporary moment, anger began to grow once more as she thought of the Jedi Knight that had been killed because of her arrival to Tython, but the singular reminder of her master’s glare after she gave into her emotions before stayed with her.

For Kyla the flight back to the temple had been utterly silent. She did not speak a single word to her padawan the entire, short trip. Partly because the battlemaster was gathering her thoughts and try to decide what to say to San Anin when they did make it back. The brief anger she had felt at her apprentice for her two outbursts had quickly been dispeled. The girl was young, emotional outbursts weren’t unheard of among padawans. Still, she had to ensure San would not rely on such moments to guide her in battle, or her ways with the Force.

San Anin knew what would be coming, knowing that she had done a very harsh and tragic wrong to given into her emotions the way she did. That was why she hung her head in silence for a majority of the flight, only the sound of her shifting in the seat that had suddenly become too uncomfortable and the hum of the fighters engines accompanied the two as they made their way to the temple. The padawan wanted to speak to her master, wanting to apologize and let loose of what she had experienced, but she felt that she would only anger her master further if she said the wrong thing. The fear of loosing her emotions would also plague her, holding her back as she wanted to just cry over every piece of stress that she accumulated.

It wasn’t until they had landed that San Anin had spoken, “M-master…” she began already feeling tears swelling up in her eyes, “I- I unders-stand i-if you a-are angry w-with me.” She would have spoken more, but the padawan felt that if she continued then she wouldn’t have the strength to hold back her sadness.

“San, angry isn’t the word. I’m not angry at you for what occurred,I’m disappointed. Disappointed in myself as it would appear my training in order to prevent such moments has been lacking. But also to you for giving in to your rage to launch an uncalled for attack on an unarmed, surrendering opponent” The Jedi master stated firmly as she clicked off the engines of her starfighter. 

“There is nothing wrong with feeling emotions. Everyone feels happiness, sadness and anger. It is only natural. To feel them is to be alive. The crux of the issue is seizing upon them and unleashing that anger and aggression towards others while intertwining with the Force. Particularly attacking someone that had already surrendered and presented no threat,” Kyla further added as she pressed a button to open the cockpit. Then she climbed out of her vessel. 

[i]Disappointed.[/i]

It was that word that registered the most within the padawan’s mind, causing her to blink behind her eyewear and bringing that sadness she had been holding back to the absolute forefront of her thoughts. San Anin has never wanted to make anyone, let alone her master, to become disappointed in her. She slumped back in her seat, dispute the cockpit of the vessel opening up. Her head hung as she tried her best to rid herself of her own personal demons that told her that she was a failure of a Jedi.

She had no words to say or even think of, other than to register her failures in a growing list that all proved her worthlessness. After a moment, she relinquished herself to helm the thoughts and solemnly climbed out of the fighter to follow her master, but finding herself to only stare at the floor and follow a bit further from her master than she normally did. San Anin pulled her arms together, almost as if she were trying to hold herself together from physically falling apart.

Kyla noticed her padawan’s reaction and body expressions as they walked out of the hangar. Jedi and temple personal bustled around them, going about their own business as the master and apprentice trio moved to their destination. The veteran Jedi paused in her stride and wrapped an arm around San, then another as she embraced her distraught young padawan. She firmly hugged San, gently patting her on the back with one hand. Part of her sympathized with the girl, it was difficult as a young Jedi to fully separate the Force and raging emotions.

It was such an easy thing to give in to, precisely why so many Jedi fell that way. One outburst cascading into more to where they had left the light side behind. That was the last thing she wanted from San. Kyla had lost one padawan in her own stupidity and cockiness, she did not need to have another lost because of her failed teachings. The Jedi way was not perfect, admittedly, but it was one of responsibility. San was no Sith, she was learning best she could. It was best that Kyla addressed these types of incidents and ended them as quickly as possible. 

“You will be alright San. You’ve made me proud far more than you have made me disappointed. It is a lot to take in and process, but I know you can do it. It is one of the many challenges a Jedi must conquer to be their greatest.” She said calmly whilst holding the young girl. Others walked by them and Kyla ignored them, they did not matter right now. The bond between a master and their padawan was one of critical importance in the Order. 

“B-but what if I-I only c-continue to disappoint you?” San Anin asked, her self doubt continuing to grow as her mind focused on the negative.

“You won’t. I don’t want you to dwell on the past, San. We all make mistakes, even Jedi. Today was a terrible day, we’ve all been hit hard by its events. You have to learn from this, grow and strengthen from it. I will help you and guide you to the best of my abilities. I promise I will not let you down. You will not let me down more, failures are not something to be hung up on and cloud your future. Use what happened today as motivation that you can and will be your best.” Kyla stated, pulling away from the hug but still keeping a hand on San as she looked her padawan in the eyes. Making damn sure that her message would get through. 

As the two stared at each other, San Anin looked to the floor before speaking once more, “When I saw Elav die, all I could see was Master Miljaco. When I saw the dark sider, all I could see was the sith assassin who killed him.” 

She looked back up to Kyla before continuing, “I-I don’t want to lose you t-too, not when I-I can s-stop it.” The padawan finally relayed the reason as to why she acted the way she did, trying to justify what she had done and rationalize everything that had happened behind her memories.

“You can’t allow the past to control you, San. I’m sorry for what happened to your former master, but he would not have wanted you to seek revenge. Elav fought bravely, we would have died if it wasn’t for him. He made the greatest sacrifice a Jedi could. Rage is not something he or Master Miljaco would want from you. How can I take you into battle against the Sith or whoever else if you are harboring vengeance? You are stronger than that even if you yourself do not believe it, you have to make yourself believe so.” Kyla replied firmly, blinking as San explained the trauma she clung to. 

“Y-yes, Master,” San Anin hesitantly said, nodding in a confirmation of understanding of her master’s words. 

“Good. Trust me San, trust in yourself. Believe in yourself. You have immense potential and a great head on your shoulders.” Kyla said with a smile as she patted San on the back again. She would have to bring up the incident with Grandmaster Shan though, Satele would only aid in helping San. 

There was a moment of silence, as San Anin’s hands played with each other, fingers interlocking and disconnecting. “M-master. I-I…” she thought to herself for a brief moment, “Before w-we fought those things, I-I could f-feel other e-emotions. M-multiple at once.” Her voice was quiet, almost as if she were trying to be sure that no one else could hear. 

“I d-don’t think they w-were m-my own,” she finished, more hesitant than when mentioning her past.

“And what did you feel, San Anin?”

The duo of Master and Padawan looked up to find the Grand Master standing there, less than a few feet away, having trailed away from the small party she had arrived with and focused her attention here. On these two. 

Satele’s features were a master class in control: there wasn’t the slightest hint of her state of mind outside the sing-song tone of her voice, a warm tone that bordered on maternal. Her blue eyes bounced between the two of them, and without slipping into thoughts, Satele had a pretty good idea of what happened. 

[i]Ah.[/i] “The three of us will speak on this later. Until then, San Anin, see that you do not leave the Temple.”

Those blue eyes lingered on Kyla, and this time Satele did slip into thoughts: [i]We can, and should, do this later without eyes. We have something to tend to at the moment.[/i]

Satele had meant the Dark Sider, a fact made obvious by the inherent communication of telepathy, and made more obvious as Satele turned to face the Dark Sider. Restrained at the wrists, and smirking at the three of them.

But staring at San Anin.

“Careful with that one, o’ wise Grand Master: slippery with a lightsaber and quick to violence is she,” every word was a mockery that it was clear none enjoyed more than the Dark Sider herself. But Satele was no longer looking at the Dark Sider. She was staring as Jaslyn. A half dozen Jedi Guardians strolled into the hangar with removed their hoods. Finally Satele broke off to nod to the Guardians, even as she stepped up to the one that seemed so amused. “And what is your name?”

The Dark Sider smirked. “My name is Selene, Satele Shan. I would say it’s an honor...but let’s be honest: Revan was always more interesting than Bastila, and you reek of Bastila.”

Satele gave the order, “Watch ‘Selene’ until one of the Masters from the Council comes to relieve you. Take her to the lower chamber.” It wasn’t until they marched out with the this ‘Selene’ that Satele’s eyes once again moved. “Brye, escort Jaslyn to my chambers. I would very much like to have a chat with her. Kyla, come have a chat with my little ground and tell us what happened.”

Satele had to fight off further frustration. It was time to know what happened, and time to formulate something that at least resembled a plan.