Oh, if it weren't for my meditation practice, my body would definitely have turned into solid durasteel overnight. As it was, the stiffness remained tolerable. I rubbed my eyes, washed up quickly, and chewed through a portion of dry rations.
Something tugged at the edge of my awareness.
"Hurry," Ethan's voice murmured from where he stood by the wall, optics dim but active.
"You feel it too?" I asked quietly.
"Statistically speaking, when you ignore that 'feeling,' something explodes," he replied. "I recommend proactive behavior."
"I prefer to believe it's the Force," I muttered.
"With your luck? Could be both."
With some difficulty recalling the route — my memory faltered; it had been years — I made my way toward the Tower where the Appointment Council resided.
"They log everything there," Ethan noted as he walked beside me, hands clasped behind his back. "Paperwork is the true backbone of galactic civilization."
"You sound impressed."
"I am horrified."
The Appointment Council handled Padawan declarations. Usually, a Jedi would arrive and announce their decision. The Force guided teacher and student together — at least in theory. Unchosen younglings were often sent to the Service or Agro Corps.
"Efficient," Ethan said. "Select your warrior. Send the rest to agriculture."
"It's not that simple."
"It never is."
After the high-speed elevator carried me upward, I entered a small oval chamber. A lone Jedi sat inside. My memory clicked into place.
"Honorable—"
"Ntorra Ailio is my name, Knight…"
"Dagon Marek. A pleasure."
"The choice of a Padawan brings you here?"
"It does, Master Ailio."
Ethan remained silent — which, from him, counted as respect.
"And the name?"
"Ahsoka Tano. Togruta."
Ailio closed her eyes briefly. "Impulsive. Emotional. Strong-willed. You are certain?"
"Yes. The Force guides this decision."
A half-truth. Ethan would call it a "strategic omission."
"So be it," she said. "I will record the appointment."
As we exited, Ethan leaned slightly closer.
"You lied."
"I adjusted."
"Ah. Jedi phrasing. Efficient."
Later, outside the training hall, I paused.
"You're tense," Ethan observed.
"I'm about to alter the course of multiple futures."
"And here I thought you were just recruiting a student."
I didn't answer.
Inside the hall, the energy was chaotic — younglings training, sparks of practice blades, shouts, laughter.
Then it happened.
Ahsoka's strike nearly removed my midsection.
Our blades locked with a sharp hiss.
"Ouch!" she blurted.
"That," I said evenly, "was enthusiastic."
Ethan's voice crackled softly in my ear. "Impressive reflexes. Hers. Yours… acceptable."
The girl looked mortified.
"I'm sorry, Knight, I—"
"Good initiative," I interrupted. "First strike. Then confirm."
Her eyes widened.
"My name is Dagon Marek. I am a Jedi Knight. Ahsoka Tano… will you be my Padawan? I've already been to the Appointment Council."
"Yes!" she exclaimed instantly.
Ethan muttered, "Emotional volatility confirmed."
I ignored him.
In the corridor, I stopped and faced her.
"Before we begin, two conditions."
She straightened immediately.
"First: we are going to war. In combat, you follow my orders without argument. Before and after, debate me all you like. During? No."
"Jedi don't retreat," she blurted.
I smiled faintly. "If we retreat, it means we are advancing — in the opposite direction."
She flushed.
"So?"
"…Yes."
"Second: humor is allowed. Encouraged. But you don't mock me."
She blinked. "Why?"
"Because," Ethan cut in through my private channel, "your dignity reserves are already dangerously low."
I suppressed a cough.
"It's part of discipline," I said calmly.
She studied me.
"…Yes, Master."
Ethan whispered, "She absolutely does not mean that."
"I heard that," I murmured.
"Of course you did."
Later, outside her quarters, I waited.
"She is excited," Ethan observed.
"She hides it poorly."
"As do you."
Before I could reply, my armor's comlink chirped.
A hologram of Shaak Ti appeared.
"Dagon Marek?"
"Yes, Master."
"The Senate has formally appointed the Jedi as generals of the Grand Army of the Republic. Report to Hangar Three-Er-Fifteen immediately. You have your first assignment."
"Understood."
The projection vanished.
Ethan folded his arms.
"Vacation concluded."
"Yes."
"Probability of immediate combat?"
"High."
"Excellent. I have been underutilized."
"Ahsoka," I called toward the door, sensing her presence behind it. "Stop eavesdropping."
The door slid open instantly.
"I'm ready, Master!" she declared, holding a small pack.
Ethan leaned slightly toward me. "She was listening to every word."
"I know."
I looked at my new Padawan.
"Let's not keep Master Shaak Ti waiting."
As we walked toward the hangars, Ethan's voice lowered, serious now.
"First mission. No grand archives. No theoretical wars. Real ones."
"I know."
"Plan?"
"Observe. Adapt. Survive."
"And win?"
I allowed myself a small smile.
"If possible."
Ethan's optics glowed faintly brighter.
"Good. I prefer long operational lifespans."
And just like that, theory ended.
War began.