Caer gripped the railing, feeling it’s cold hard metallic surface, smooth and without blemish. The smell of freshly cut flowers that sat in vases and spring greeted her nose and the wind that carried those scents carried only a hint of chill. The sun shone through the clear blue sky, warming her tanned skin, making it feel delightfully warm; a sensation she felt as if it had been long forgotten.
The balcony that overlooked Coruscants vast and endless city was hundreds of floors from the bottom. She could hear the traffic of the hover taxis shooting back and forth, the sound of private speeders revving their engines in impatience at the backed up traffic. She could almost feel the drivers frustration as they had to wait their turn.
Drawing back from the balcony, she slipped through the curtain that divided the room from the balcony and closed the door behind her with a wave of her hand, using the force to trigger the mechanism. Lazy? Yes. Cheating? Most certainly but she was tired and had a lot on her mind.
The Miralukan woman made her way through the opulent living room of the space she’d been given and stepped into the bedroom. The bed could easily fit her, Raiyden her brother, Neirov and possibly another person.
Caer winced slightly at the thought of Neirov being on the ship, while Caer sat in a well tended to hotel room and was given pretty much anything she desired. Not that she desired much, if anything she really disliked having to deal with all the pomp and circumstance of this formal meeting she’d been called to. Stepping before the bed, she used her own form of vision- a vision all Miraluka people had to varying degrees- to look over her the box that sat on the bed.
Sighing heavily, she opened it up and ‘stared’ down at the outfit that would signify her ascendance from Knight to Master. The very thought chafed her and it had taken all of her self control to keep from telling the Council where to stuff their Master title.
She didn’t want it. She felt she hadn’t done anything to earn it and the thought of having it now made it feel like a hollow victory in how she got it. Her brother said she’d fought just as hard as any Jedi Knight to get where she was, had trained just as hard if not sometimes harder and that she’d earned it. It still didn’t sit right with her, even as she pulled out the new uniform, shed the old one and dressed in the crisp new armor and cloak combination that was common among the Masters.
It was difficult for her to sort out her feelings on the subject. She’d been bushwhacked by the council not once but twice! Caer inhaled sharply and forced herself to focus as she adjusted the belt around her waist and clipped her saber to her side.
First they had sent her a Padawan, poor Rulan. The girl had no idea what she was getting into when it came to Caer being a teacher of anything. But then they’d made Caer a Master to boot. Both ideas had caused Caer to lose her temper and she’d growled for a while at Raiyden until he finally got her to calm down.
She was more angry at how she’d received Rulan than the actual fact she now had an eighteen year old girl to train to become a Jedi. She’d received the letter stating she had a parcel. A parcel! The girl was not a parcel. Sending Ithorian celery through the mail was considered a parcel. A young, very obviously confused girl who Caer assumed had never been off Tython in her life, was NOT a parcel.
It was a test, it had to be. Even as she paced in front of the mirror, back and forth, back and forth, she didn’t realize how commanding she looked, or how serious. How much every inch of the Master she had truly become. Her hand poised over her chin, her arm tucked under the elbow that propped up the arm so the hand could touch her chin; how her expression was serious and mature looking.
She would teach this girl. She would teach Padawan Rulan how to become an expert fighter, that was her niche. Caer was an expert fighter. She wouldn’t have gotten this far without being one and she knew what she was capable of. Now, now she had to find it within her to teach this girl to survive a universe that was bent on breaking her in any way possible. The galaxy would throw everything at this girl and she would have to face it with the fierce determination of a Jedi. Raiy could teach the girl the softer things of being a Jedi. Caer didn’t really care for history lessons- either being on the receiving end or the giving end of them. Raiyden lived for that stuff and she’d be happy to let the girl learn history and such from her brother.
Neirov… she’d have to warn the girl about the Mirialan. While Caer liked and trusted Neirov to a degree, she knew that the man still harbored darkness and it was something that weighed heavily on Caers conscience. She was starting to get through to Neirov and it made her glad to know that he was not as bad as everyone (namely Raiyden) claimed him to be. She had hoped to work through to Neirov, to get him to come out of that darkness, get to know him better and perhaps even come to trust him fully.
Stopping, she turned to the door, it was almost time for the meeting she’d been summoned here for. Making sure everything was in its proper place and her hair was back and away from her face the way she liked it, she headed for the door.
She was a Master Jedi now, time to start acting like one. Pausing only briefly to ‘glance’ back, turning her head to face the bed where the discarded outfit she had cast aside like an old skin, she nodded to herself.
Perhaps, in time, she would feel more comfortable in this new skin.