𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎.
Rylann Tetra, Shaak Ti's padawan, is stationed on Kamino to her disliking. Ry, taken from her home when she was only two, is upset that she didn't get a choice to become a jedi, wishing she was never discover...
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The mess hall was quieter than Ry expected. There were a few higher-ranking clones and Kaminoans seated at different tables across the sparse mess hall. As soon as she spotted Shaak Ti, Rylann bid the teenage clones goodbye, heading over to her master's table. Shaak Ti had already gotten her food as well as a platter for Ry. It was soup.
Rylann's mind drifted to the peculiar clones. She had never met anyone like them, though she hadn't met many people. Shaak Ti liked to keep her focused on training, specifically lightsaber fighting. It was Ry's weakness. She wasn't very good at it in comparison to her force abilities.
"Lost your way?" Shaak Ti asked after her last bite of soup. She set the spoon down, standing up to put her dishes away.
"Yes, Master," Rylann said dejectedly. Shaak Ti seemed to be in a rush to get out of Ry's vicinity. Could Rylann do anything right?
"Well, hurry up and eat," Shaak Ti stated, giving her padawan a nod. "We must resume training. Your force abilities have improved, but you lack tact with the saber."
Rylann stirred the cold soup glumly. "Yes, Master," she repeated, not looking up. Shaak Ti left without another word. Ry could barely eat her soup since it was cold and nasty. If it had been hot, she would've like it, but the fat from the undisclosed meat was getting thick in the broth, becoming like gelatin. Shuddering, Ry pushed the bowl away with a frown. Why did Shaak Ti have to get her food? Couldn't Ry get it herself? Was this punishment?
A few moments later, Shaak Ti approached her again. Clenching her jaw, Ry refused to make eye contact. "What now?"
"Is this a bad time?" a low voice rumbled. Ry's eyes shot up, meeting Hunter's. A flush crept onto her cheeks.
"Oh, sorry, I thought you were someone else," Ry replied, crossing her arms to lean on the table.
Hunter looked over her shoulder at the Jedi Master. "Don't worry, I'm not Crosshair," he said, sitting down across from her, a knowing glance sent her way.
Rylann grinned at the comment. She was glad he didn't bring up Shaak Ti. She didn't know how she felt about it all. In all honesty, she wasn't sure how she felt about the Order, the Republic—the war... as much as she romanticized the idea of fighting for a greater cause, something about it was unsettling to her. She just didn't know what.
"What about me?" Crosshair asked from behind Rylann. She almost jumped from her seat.
"Not everything's about you, bud," Rylann said, using the force to lift a spoon to stir the solidifying fat in her soup as she leaned her head on her free hand.
Crosshair sat down on Rylann's left, setting his tray of soup before him. He eyed Ry's bowl. "Do you not like soup?"
Ry sighed through her nose, tilting her head to look at Crosshair, cheek smushed against her fist. "I know I like soup as a liquid, but haven't tried it gelatinized before." Using the force, she lifted a spoon with a jello-like chunk on it. "Wanna try, Grandpa?"
