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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Rylann was worried. Crosshair hated when she was worried. When she was fretting, it radiated off of her like a heater. He didn't even need her freaky force powers to know how she felt.
She was going through her training exercises on the practice mat, her forms more jittery each time she went through. Her Trials were next week so she was trying to prepare and this time Crosshair was the observer. But that also meant another whole week of her worrying. Cross couldn't take it.
"Ryle, you're talking to yourself again," Crosshair said, uncrossing his arms to stick his hands in his pockets. He was leaning on the wall near the door of the training room, watching her mutter about how many mistakes she was supposedly making.
Rylann looked over at Crosshair and his heart sank at the sight. She looked much like she did when he had walked in on her crying all those months ago when they first connected as friends—tears brimming her eyes and her hair slightly bedraggled.
"I can't do this, Cross," Rylann said, dropping his saber to her side. "These forms aren't crisp enough. They are sloppy and wrong and—" Her lips trembled. "Why can't I just quit the Jedi and become a trash collector. That would make life so much easier."
"That would also make your life so much smellier," Crosshair said, pushing himself off of the wall, sauntering over to his girl. He placed his hands on her shoulders, before they made their way to her face. "You are going to do fine. You are just thinking too hard."
Rylann clenched her jaw, making her temples move against Crosshair's fingers.. "I just don't want to fail Shaak Ti or myself."
"What would Shaak Ti say?" Crosshair asked, crossing his arms.
Rylann sighed, shooting him a look as she herself crossed her arms with a scowl. "Trust in my abilities."
"Then do that," Crosshair said, shrugging. "You're a fast learner. Use that to your advantage. And you have a gift. Use it even in the Trials."
"Oh," Rylann muttered, uncrossing her arms as thoughts seemed to swirl in her eyes. "That sounds so simple. How did I not think of that?"
"You were too busy taking up mental space with potential space trash, you trash collector wannabe."
Rylann smiled, her shoulders seeming to bear less weight. "Thank you, Cross. You always have the right words."
"Only because I've said all the wrong ones before," Crosshair said, recalling the times he had tried to get his brothers out of a rut, only to anger them more with his bluntness.
A pained look crossed Rylann's eyes for a moment, sending urgency throughout Cross's being. "Mesh'la, are you alright?"
Rylann shook her head. "I'm afraid the Council will find out about us." She frowned, waving around her closed saber hilt. "If you, someone who isn't force-sensitive, can tell how I'm feeling, how easy would it be for the Council to find out?"
