Shots Fired/Part 7

"So?!" Zilq asked as Narasi joined her for dinner. The Myke girl was one of Narasi's clan mates—former clan mates now—though a year younger. "What's it like?!"

"It's…it's great," Narasi replied, trying for a smile as she picked at her dinner.

"Narasi? What's wrong?" Zilq leaned across the table between them, frowning.

Narasi sighed, cupping her chin in her hands and tapping her right cheek with the claw of her index finger. "I don't know, it's just…not what I expected. It's been a week now, and we train every day, but it feels like…like we're not training together.  Like I'm just tagging along, you know?  Like I'm just a kid he's babysitting, not his Padawan."

"Well, it's still new," Zilq reasoned. "Besides, I'm sure you'll get to do really wizard stuff! Everybody says he's a great Jedi."

"Yeah, I know." In between her training and researching the Sith factions, Narasi had managed to squeeze some time to learn more about the Pantoran species, and even asked a few passing Jedi Knights about her new master. All of them had heard good things, but none of them knew him well enough to add any details. "It's just…I don't think he likes me."

"What? Why not?!"

"I don't know, that's the thing!" Narasi said, frustrated. Her fingers curled into claws; she forced them to relax. "I'm trying really hard to do everything I'm supposed to, but it's like I can't do anything right. When I do something wrong, it's the first thing I hear, but I can't tell if I'm doing it right because he never says anything then!"

"Geez, Narasi, get a hold of yourself," Zilq said; Narasi saw that she was staring. "Why don't you just ask him if you're that worried?"

Narasi gave a feline sort of snort through her nose. "Trust me, it's not that easy. He's so closed-off.  He never wants to talk about himself or his past."

"Well, why not break the ice?" Zilq suggested. "Talk about your past."

Narasi tensed, her upper lip pulling back to expose her fangs automatically. Zilq leaned back on her bench, then whispered, "There is no passion…"

The Zygerrian took a deep breath, centering herself in the Force, letting it calm her. "…there is serenity. Right.  Sorry."

Zilq smiled, leaning forward to squeeze Narasi's arm. "Hey, it'll be okay. Besides, if you're on Coruscant, you can come cheer me on at the Apprentice Tournament!  It's the best us Initiates can do 'cause, you know…we aren't Padawans yet."

Zilq was trying, and Narasi appreciated it, giving her friend a smile. But she couldn't shake her disquiet, even though she was still taking time to meditate every day. She felt trapped between worlds, no longer an Initiate like her clan mates but not a real Padawan either.

"You could talk to Master Alsi?" Zilq suggested when she saw her friend's hesitation.

"I don't know," Narasi hedged. Ayem Alsi, the Jedi Master with overall supervision for the Initiates, was a firm and matronly woman in many ways, but always willing to listen to her charges and help them grow in the Force. "I don't want to…I don't know, go behind my master's back? Besides, I'm not an Initiate anymore…"

"Oh, excuse me, Miss Fancy Padawan," Zilq teased, sticking out her tongue, and Narasi rolled her eyes until they both laughed.

"Just give it some time, it'll be great!" Zilq added. "You just—"

They were interrupted by a buzz, and Narasi wondered at the strange vibration until she realized it was coming from her belt. She pulled the comlink from one of the many pouches on her new equipment belt.

"Nice," Zilq said. "Part of your fancy Padawan gear?"

"Yeah…" Narasi said, but she was only half-listening now, pulling up the screen and reading it over. As she did, her eyes widened and the fur on her large ears flattened to her head.

"Narasi?" Zilq asked, sounding concerned now. "What's wrong?"

"I…the Council wants to see me!" Narasi blurted out.

"The First Knowledge Council called you?" Zilq asked, baffled. "But…but you're a Padawan now! I thought they only worked with Initiates.  Maybe they don't know that—"

"No, not them," Narasi said, swallowing as she replaced the comlink on her belt and rose. "The High Council."