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Komari had come down to the Padawan training salles to get the adrenaline of failing galactic history for the second time in a row out of her system.
Was it her fucking fault that all those people’s names sounded the fucking same? Also who in their right mind knew all the different systems’ calendars by heart?!
In her opinion, that exam was impossible to pass and everyone who did it anyways was a lying liar who lied.
Dooku had just sighed and shaken his head in that way of his that looked like disappointment if you didn’t know him as well as she did. Master Nu, who’d brought them the news personally, on the other hand had looked almost impressed as she’d mechanically rattled down all the details of how wrong exactly Komari had been in her answers. Sure, impressing the Head Archivist could be counted as an achievement, but by the Light, Komari would have preferred it to be by another means that just spectacularly failing at something.
She circled through the first set of Ataru katas several times, before slowing down and switching over to the more conscious movements of Soresu. Losing herself in the Form was easy and she fell into a shallow moving meditation.
Master Dooku had long given up on having her meditate ‘the normal way’ as he called it, which was perfectly fine by Komari. How anyone could suffer being left alone with their thoughts while not even moving was beyond her. She needed to have her body distracted before being able to tackle her mind.
…
When Komari finally resurfaced from her meditation – the conclusion she’d reached was that no one needed Galactic History anyways and that there was a reason the holonet existed – she was surprised to find herself no longer alone in the training room.
A small Initiate with a shock of reddish hair was standing helplessly on the far end of the corner, evidently frozen mid-sneak past her. He quickly raised his sleeves to his face, trying to hide red and puffy eyes.
Huh.
What was a weepy Initiate doing in the Padawan training salles?
The Force didn’t provide an answer, so Komari went to the second best source; the Initiate himself. “Hey,” she said, clipping her saber back to her belt, “What’s a pipsqueak like you doing here? Don’t you guys have curfews or something?” (They did, Komari as an ex-Initiate would know.)
For a moment, the little orange kid looked like he was about to resume crying, but then he squared his shoulders (adorable but unintimidating) and bowed (also adorable but sloppy).
“I’m sorry Miss Padawan, I got lost.”
A lie.
“It will not happen again.”
An uncertainty.
Komari considered him for a moment. Gutsy little ginger to lie to her face while looking like someone had just stolen his favorite stuffy and put it through the grinder.
Well, she liked guts.
“Komari,” she said.
The kid looked up, confusion seeping through his, frankly, tragically constructed shields. “Sorry?”
“Komari,” she repeated herself, crossing her arms, “My name. Komari Vosa.”
His eyes grew bigger for a moment and then he hastily dipped into another bow – a bit better this time, but still too deep and his feet weren’t positioned under his shoulders. Master Dooku would have had an aneurysm if he’d seen such a display.
The thought made her smile through hos hasty introduction. “I’m Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he said so quickly that he surely must have almost bit his own tongue, “I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”
Komari barked a laugh. “Kid,” she said and sent out a little burst in the Force that ruffled his hair, “If you want to lie to me, first get those shields of yours under control. I can tell you’re not sorry in the least.”
He paled. “N-no, I… I am! I just–!” Now he looked close to tears once again.
It was a bit mean, but Komari counted it as a win.
“You’re fine,” she told him breezily, turning around and calling the outer tunics she had lying discarded at the end of the mats to her hands, “Lying is a good skill. You need a ton of lying to get by in the world.” Throwing the tunics over her shoulders, she looked back at his gobsmacked expression. “What? I’m in the Senate a lot. People there lie like it’s Swamp Stew Night at Master Yodas’ and they just heard that the mess hall has libike.” With a few steps she was at his side and the way he craned his neck to keep looking at her face reminded her of a baby anooba. She wondered if he also would bite.
Somehow, the prospect seemed exciting instead of annoying.
Komari poked a finger between his furrowed brows, but there was no snapping, just a snap of indignance and his small hands flying up to cover the spot. Probably to prevent a repeat of the action or whatever. Komari ignored it. “Get better shields, kiddo, then we’ll talk. We’re gonna make a liar out of you yet.”
Encouraging children was difficult, you say? Not for Komari.
She was acing this.
The Initiate looked like he wasn’t so sure about that (yet), but he’d get there. Komari had needed a new pet project anyways, because Master Dooku for sure would try to ground her to sweat over some more history. He hadn’t yet given up on that, she could sense it over their bond.
…
Turns out her little Initiate was actually a history pro .
Life was aligning in favor of Komari. She could feel it.
…
So Obi-Wan was already twelve, huh. She wouldn’t have given it to him.
Must have been the baby face.
Well, whatever. So he’d soon get a Master.
Komari should start planning on how to weasel her little Orange One out of Padawan classes soon then. Because she wasn’t yet giving up on making him a liar!
…
QUI-GON JINN THAT BASTARD!
…
Komari stormed into her Master’s quarters, completely ignoring the fact that he was maybe a little closer than proper with Master Nu.
“Komari!,” he started protesting, a blush creeping up his neck and under that stupid beard of his, “What–?!”
“I need you to Knight me and I need you to do it now !” She brandished her saber at him, feeling frantic.
They were going to steal her Initiate from her! Her minion! Her little orange history cheat-sheet!
“Komari!,” Master Dooku unpeeled himself from Master Nu, who was radiating a mixture of razor-sharp interest and bloodlust. Scary woman, Komari could see why her Master liked her so much.
“Komari,” he said her name for the third time, like she was some sort of nubian mirror-ghost, “Explain this to me? You know your Knighting is not yet scheduled because you lack the academic credits for it.” He shot Master Nu a loaded glance, “A circumstance that has been cause for much discussion, Padawan.”
She scoffed. ‘Discussion’ her ass.
Anyone could see they had just been making out, the fuckers.
She threw her hands out. “I’ve got no time for stupid history or whatever! I need to be Knighted!”
“Padawan,” Dooku said and oh, she knew that tone. That was his ‘I’m a responsible Master and by the Force I will make you a functioning member of society’ tone. “A Knighting is not something one should rush like this. The rank of Knight reflects a well-rounded education on all levels, not just saberplay–”
Ugh , so this was about her neglecting studies for the sake of additional saber classes again. One should think that he of all people would understand .
“ – So I hope that whatever it is that has you this frazzled will pass. If you need help meditating on it I can–”
“Ugh!” Komari couldn’t believe this! She twirled around, screeching, “You don’t get it !”
“Then explain it to me!,” Master Dooku called after her as she stomped back out. No one was helping!
There was the rustle of cushions and he must have slumped back into the chair. Komari paused to listen. She was curious, yeah. So what? Sue her.
Her Master’s voice was laced with quiet dispair as he murmured, “What did I do wrong now? I don’t get it. Rael and Qui never were this difficult.” The words were muffled like he was talking into his hands or something.
Unbidden, a grin crept up on Komari. Yeah, she was special .
“Don’t worry, Yan,” Master Nu tried to console him, “She’s a bright little light, I’m sure she’ll calm down again. And I can tell from personal experience that sometimes… sometimes teenage girls are worse.”
There was a pregnant pause, in which Komari could practically taste her Master’s glare at his ‘friend’.
“Anyways,” Master Nu murmured, “It’s not like she can kill a Sith and get a Field Knighting, so don’t worry.”
…
“Don’t worry, Orange One,” Komari’s hands rested heavily on Obi-Wan’s narrow shoulders, “I’ll find a Sith to kill before you’re thirteen. And if I have to create them myself.”
The boy blinked up at her blearily, sleep and confusion twirling around his Force-signature. But his shields were holding, which Komari counted as another personal win.
“‘Mari?,” Obi murmured between heavy-lidded blinks, “Why’re you in m’ bed?”
“Saying goodbye for now, Minion.”
…
Somewhere across the galaxy, a younger Sheev Palpatine sneezed out of nowhere.
…
So turns out that finding the Sith had been relatively easy.
Killing them was a whole other matter.
But Komari Vosa wouldn’t be Komari Vosa if she couldn't rise to such a challenge. After all, it was like Master Yoda always said: do or do not, there was no try.
She peered over the stone outcropping down where the trap had snapped close around her prey. The weasley nubian senatorial aide – really, she couldn’t believe it, did the Sith have no standards at all? – just slumped back against a scorchmark-riddled tree stump, clutching his waist where one of the blue-and-gray Mandos had caught him with a mean slugthrower salve. His expression was pinched and angry and there was no doubt about the fact that if he hadn’t been winded from single handedly taking on an entire squad of Mandos, he’d taken it out on their corpses.
Well.
Prime time for Komari to finish this.
She lit her saber with a flourish and then jumped down.
The Sith snarled something, but she didn’t care enough for it to register. No, Komari had far greater plans.
“My Master would say this is deeply un-Jedi-like of me,” she informed the Sith who had lit his abomination of a saber as well now, “But I need you to die by my hand so I can get Knighted asap. There is a tiny Orange One waiting for me back at the Temple because my idiot brother is being denser than a bantha’s matted backside and my Grandmaster is meddling.”
All the Sith did was snarl once more.
With a sigh, Komari fell into a basic Makashi stance. “Just die quickly, will you?”
…
Newsflash: he didn’t.
Sith, apparently, were quite the hardy little cockroaches when they wanted to be.
But Komari was stubborn.
…
“OBI-WAN KENOBI YOU’RE MY PADAWAN NOW!,” she hollered. The words carried, loud enough for them to count even against the general thrum of the engines in the hangar bay.
Her little guy flinched, even more skittish as usual. But his presence bloomed with muted hope as she jumped down.
“Padawan Mari!,” he crashed into her, slinging his thin little arms around her middle.
The momentary high of being in his bright little presence – though it was slightly clouded now with anxiety and fear? Who had dared to do this to her minion?! – was quickly overshadowed by Qui-Gon Jinn’s arrival. Literally. The man had never learned how to stop growing.
Komari bared her teeth at her Padawan-brother. Not even he could have mistaken the gesture for a smile. “Brother.”
“Padawan Vosa,” he said, in that slightly condescending, annoyed tone that she knew their Master had tried his best to train out of him. Master Dooku had always lamented about it and the Situations-with-capital-S Jinn landed himself in routinely. “Former Initiate Kenobi and are expected on an outbound flight shortly. Please do not delay us any more than necessary.”
In her arms, her Orange One stiffened and that cloud of fear darkened.
Also. Wrong honorific.
Tutting, she tilted her chin up at Qui-Gon, never once loosening her embrace on Obi-Wan. “I don’t know what the old toad is plotting now, but Padawan Kenobi isn’t going anywhere.” She paused, thinking. “Well, except maybe to the Council Chambers for me to give my mission debrief.”
“ Former Initiate Kenobi is slotted to go to the AgriCorps post on Bandomeer,” Qui-Gon densely said.
“Nu-uh,” Komari shook her head, “I called dibs first. If the AgriCorps want a minion, they should get their own one. This one is mine .”
After that, her idiot brother opened his mouth and let out some more vaguely chastizing sounds, but Komari was done here and tuned it out. It was one of her special talents, after all, ignoring things she didn’t see merit in. Master Dooku had taught her that in the Senate.
Or, well, the Senate had taught her that and Master Dooku had looked vaguely constipated by the results.
Whatever.
She was bringing him a new Grandpadawan and a dead Sith. So really, he couldn’t possibly be mad at her about this. Even if she might have gone on an unannounced several-month-long bender.
…
With a burst of the Force, Komari threw the doors to the Council Chambers open.
“Master look!,” she hollered into the startled round as she hoisted up Obi-Wan, presenting him to Dooku, “I got you a Grandpadawan! And he’s orange! Praise me!”