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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Crosshair walked down the hall, steps echoing in a steady rhythm. He had walked down the hall a million times before so why was now any different?
It was that new girl, he thought, scrunching his lip up distastefully. She had entered his life, spending time with his brothers at meal times over and over, ruining the homeostasis of his life—how long had it been now? A month? Already she had shifted his world around.
Crosshair scowled, a look he had perfected in his short lifespan. And now his brothers were worried about Rylann. She was a jedi, she could handle herself, so why the worry? It's not like she'd been missing for a month. It had only been three days.
Yet Crosshair found himself slowing his pace as he neared her door like the past few rotations, the urge to knock overwhelming him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. What reason could he have besides his brothers' worry? And that wasn't sufficient enough an excuse. But still he paused in front of her door, letting out a breath.
He was about to knock when he heard a sniffle from behind it. His hand froze in front of the door as the muffled noises continued.
She was crying.
Panic coursed through Crosshair. Should he sneak away? Frowning, Crosshair stepped back, biting his cheek. He sidestepped, leaning against the wall of Rylann's room, recalling the last time he stopped here.
A month earlier...
Crosshair walked down the hall, head down as he passed nearby clones. They diverted their eyes, veering their path far from his. Crosshair sneered. What di'kuts.
He was walking to his quarters after a long day of tests. They once again were not happy with his ability to defy every order. This just resulted in more tampering with his mind.
Crosshair hated it. It made him vulnerable. It made him—feel violated.
As he walked, someone started pounding the wall, angry curses coming from the other side of it. Curiosity getting the better of him, he leaned against the wall as inconspicuously as he could. The pounding stopped. What happened? An angry young clone whining about mop duty?
In that moment he thought it would be funny to kick back, repeating the pattern. After he did it, he immediately regretted it because he knew he would soon be faced with an angry reg.
He slunk into a nearby maintenance closet, peaking through a crack in the door to watch. He had been expecting a grumbling young clone to exit, instead finding a young woman with a sour expression on her face. Her long dark hair was a mess down her back, rolling over her shoulders as she scanned the hall for him. But to no avail. She ended up returning to her room, door sliding closed with a hiss.
