Crooked Mast

[Naomi Carolina]

[member="Ryan Korr"]

It was relatively quiet on the subversion for once. Her XO, [member="Asmus Janes"], was out on some mission or another. Jay worked away on his bird in a spot just over yonder. The spitfire redhead was working on the wing of her own, stealth x-wing Grits, her BB8 unit was twittering and rolling below.

She heard Jay snicker.

Even though the teen had just been with Wraith squadron a short month, she already felt like it was family. It had to do because she didn't get to see her brothers all that much, with the nature of working with the SIS and her not-so-secret jobs with the Alliance. A grease-covered hand wiped along he fabric of her coverall, as she wedged her elbow into the open panel at the base of the wing.

"I can hear yah from here, Wilson," she quipped, reaching her little arms further in with the hydrospanner as some sparks flew.

"Not my fault your droid has a big of mouth as you, Freckles," her sometimes wing-mate snorted again.

Grease smeared across her freckled-brow as she pushed some tangled strands of rusty-red away. "At least I know where my mouth has be--," a deck officer cut her off.

"Carolina. You're needed in the briefing room. Now."

She frowned and peeked over the wing. Right now?

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

A tall man stood with his back to the door. He wore the rustic hued robes of a Jedi. Locks of auburn hair lay tucked neatly behind his ears, a sharp contrast to his pale features. A teardrop scar marred his face just under one eye, silvered with age. Eyes the pallor of gray clouds surveyed the briefing room.

Squadron patches decorated the briefing room. Miniature models of X-wings and A-wings hung from the ceiling. A holo hockey table sat off to one corner.

He could feel the energy in the room. Quiet now, but when the squadron was present the place would hum with their jocularity. A smile tweaked at his lips.

Ryan Korr did not think he would be training an apprentice again, but he also had not expected the master of the order to summon him to his office, slap a personnel dossier on the desk, and inform him he had a new padawan.

That simply was not how it worked. And yet... times changed.

Gone were the familiar days of the Jedi Order. Its reassuring structure had crumbled with the temple on Coruscant. And even though they had regained all that was lost, Korr still felt there was something missing. It left him feeling a bit hollow among the other Jedi in the Alliance, where before the camaraderie and guidance had always centered him.

Now he felt more free than ever before, but with that liberty came a sense of foundering. He finally had wind beneath his sails, but had forgotten to where he was sailing.

Perhaps taking on an apprentice would help bring him back in touch.

So, here he stood, waiting for the arrival of this [member="Naomi Carolina"]. A young, hotshot pilot with a vendetta against the imperials six feet deep. And, apparently, sensitive to the Force.

 

[Naomi Carolina]

[member="Ryan Korr"]

Scrambling down, she followed the deck officer up to the debriefing room. Was she in trouble? Had they found out she wasn't really 18?!

She gulped.

Grease-covered hands pushed up the sleeves to her coveralls as she entered the room. Hazels searched, expecting to find the general along with Asmus. Instead, there was a tall stranger with similar red hair. And for a smidgen of a moment, the way he stood reminded her of her Pa.

Hands crossed beneath her tightened chest.

"What's going on?" The teen had no problems with being direct and typically blundered her way into things head first. The general strode in, dismissing the deck officer. Naomi immediately straightened.

"At ease."

She relaxed as the commander nodded to Korr. "Naomi. This is Jedi Master Ryan Korr. You may remember the standard blood test you took back on Belsavis when you joined. Turns out you had some interesting results and showed aptitude for the force."

The teen's mouth became slightly ajar.

"I'll let Master Korr fill in the rest."

Freckled-brow furrowed and she found her back leaning against the threshold of the door as her hazels swept to the space wizard. This had to be a joke, obviously. Maybe Jay set this all up?

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

He watched her without expression.

Too old.

But then, did it matter? Those tenets had not stopped Jedi after Jedi from falling. He could count on one hand the survivors of his own padawan class. This girl could be part of the next generation of Jedi Knights. Hope shifted the dull weight of melancholy above his heart. Hope that the Jedi of her generation could do better than his own.

Korr clasped his hands behind his back.

The general's brusque breaking of the news was perhaps a tad tactless, but then Ryan himself could scarce do better at such matters. He could feel her confusion and apprehension. Probably wondering if they would take her away from the squadron she seemed to love.

"It is true. Your record indicates your flight simulations are highly irregular. You may have called it luck, or just natural talent, but you have been born with a great gift, Naomi."

He spoke with the clipped accent of a core worlder, a strange contrast to the heavily represented drawls of Corellians and Outer Rimmers in the Alliance.

"I will be temporarily transferring to Wraith Squadron from Sable Squadron. I have been assigned by the grandmaster of our Order to instruct you in the ways of the Force, if that is your wish. I understand that it is a lot to take in all at once. Obviously, the military wants you to receive this instruction as it would make you a better asset. But I will not train you unless you are willing. Take time to think it over."

[member="Naomi Carolina"]

 

[Naomi Carolina]

[member="Ryan Korr"]

Great, now she felt like a complete cheat.

Flying those tunnel bikes in the mines and beating out Bobby-Rae? She thought she got her talent from her Pa, raw and unrefined but quick like a flame. Now they were saying it was because of this mystical mumbo-jumbo. To be fair, she'd never met a jedi in their small outpost, mining and canyon town. Within her last two weeks with the Alliance, Ryan Korr was the second one.

Aela Talith was the first.

Half of her still didn't believe what they were saying. The other half wanted to run away and tell the rest of her squad-mates about this crazy conversation, laugh it up with them, and never think about it again. Never meet a force-user again.

Palm came up and pushed at her nose, trying to erase an itch there.

"I'll think on it, mister" she muttered, trying not to see too much of her dead father in the man's sharp gaze. Hand lowered from her face. "But have you talked to my XO, yet? Asmus Janes? He should know what's going on."