The evening sky over Coruscant had already darkened, scattering large stars across its blue surface, soon earning the right to be called night. At least, that is what the senior adepts of the Jedi Order would very much like to believe, exhausted from their day's missions and other work. They eagerly awaited lights out and would have gladly fallen asleep before then, as many had done, except for the notorious pedants such as Master Yoda and Master Windu. The Padawans were also quite tired, and their rapidly growing teenage bodies also demanded intense sleep. Only the younglings were unaffected by this; given free rein, they would have spent the whole night running around the temple, stomping and squealing, playing tag. And they played until, in the darkness of the evening corridor, they stepped on Master Windu's foot and were punished with an hour-long lecture on the importance of thinking through tactics and strategy. How important it is to take this into account even in such a simple game. As an example, Mace agreed to play with them himself, but shamefully retreated when, within a minute, he was besieged by a lively Twi'lek, and then, a minute later, by a little Nautolan.
"Good night, Master," the children said in unison, quietly so that he wouldn't hear, adding, "And my advice to you is to practise your strategy.
"I can't stand children," Mace hissed, already leaving the younglings' room and walking down the corridor.
"Likewise, Master," he heard immediately from behind one of the columns decorating the Temple corridor. Windu immediately rushed there, not knowing whether to activate his sword and apparently deciding that it wasn't worth it, simply throwing himself behind the column from which the squeaky voice was coming. But there was no one there, and instead, from behind the next column, he heard:
"Bravo, Mirror Bald! You screwed up again!
The Master's patience was already wearing thin, and he drew his sword from his belt, but before activating it, he was already there in a single leap. Once again, he was met with emptiness, the nasty voice having already managed to escape behind the third column:
"Once again, congratulations, and I award you the honorary title of First Loser of the Order!
And following the words, a large petal from a flower growing in a pot nearby flew straight at the Master, guided by the Force so that it fell precisely on Vind's head. He took off the decoration and read with surprise and growing anger the dedication to himself scribbled on it and the small crown drawn just below.
"Oh, is that so! I'll teach you a lesson!" — shouted Vindus, finally losing his patience and activating his sword with an unusual purple blade. With the Force, he chopped down the poor, innocent ficus, cutting it down to the roots, but he did so in vain, as his malicious pursuer was already long gone.
"Won't your bald head sweat?" laughed a voice from somewhere near the ceiling, and then in a completely different voice shouted, "Madam Jocasta! Your favourite flower is in trouble!"
Without saying another word, the malicious voice, or rather its owner, or more accurately, its owner, swiftly and cautiously crawled along the wide cornice and, hiding behind a low-hanging dark brown curtain, climbed down, twisting the second one into a coil. After that, looking around as if in a lifeboat, she darted into her room and was about to calmly go to her side when she suddenly stopped. The path was blocked by the tall, dense figure of her teacher. Master Plo was not asleep, as his student had hoped, but was standing near the entrance, dressed in a dark beige robe, looking reproachfully at the girl:
"Asoka, here you go again. How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?
I didn't say it harshly, but the tone of the kind and understanding teacher was such that Tano instantly stopped smiling and lowered her eyes in apparent guilt.
"Well, he should stop yelling at you and accusing you of being a bad teacher," she said after a second and looked timidly at Plo. "I heard him yelling at you again."
"Yes, that's right," the Kel Dor nodded in agreement and immediately frowned, although it was impossible to see under his mask. "But nevertheless, that is the business of the Masters, and you have no right to judge them, let alone try to interfere.
"But how can I just listen to him talk about you like that, when he himself..." Asoka was about to launch into her favourite set of Tatooine swear words, but bit her tongue just in time. Her mentor didn't like her swearing. "How can he say a bad word about you? You're the best, you're almost like a father to me!"
And with all the fervour of childish devotion, Asoka hugged her teacher and kissed his hand loudly. In response, giving in to this unaccountable impulse for a couple of seconds, he also hugged the girl and stroked her head. But soon the teacher in him took over again:
"Thank you, Asoka, I'm glad you appreciate me so much, but you shouldn't take such risks for this. Believe me, he wouldn't approve.
These were exactly the words that made Asoka, instead of feeling satisfied with her actions, feel a burning shame. She knew who her mentor was talking about. He was her former student, who had heroically given his life for his teacher five years ago. So that he could return to Coruscant and take her, Asoka, such a difficult and problematic student, as his apprentice. He simply could not have done otherwise, having promised it to the dying Phil. It was a very difficult and responsible step, especially considering that the Council was against accepting Asoka into the Order at all. But Plo did it and did not regret it. For all her restlessness and impatience, Tano turned out to be a diligent student, easily learning everything, grasping knowledge on the fly, and learning to wield a sword almost on the first day she picked it up. It still hung from her belt, always with her, even when she slept. Asoka sincerely loved her teacher, and soon the respect she felt for him from the very first moment grew into something more. This happened when Eleot died before his eyes. The girl took the Master's grief as her own, for she had come to love this kind, open young man in the two days that had passed since they met and before the red blade of the staff pierced his chest. Then, seeing him after the tragedy, Asoka firmly promised herself that she would stay by his side and do her best to comfort him and help him survive this terrible grief. And she kept her promise, studying diligently and listening to her mentor in everything. Plow was often pleased with her and sometimes held her up as an example to other Padawans. However, it was not always possible to behave as the rules of the Order required. Lively and spirited by nature, Togruta often could not restrain herself and from time to time committed various pranks, sometimes causing the entire temple to groan. For example, a year after joining, she covered the walls of the corridor with Tatuin swear words and signed them: "Mace Windu." What could she do if, of all the Masters of the Council, she didn't get along with him? This dark-skinned grump had disliked Asoka from day one and constantly teased her. How could she not respond with something equally hurtful? It would have been fine if he had only teased her, but Windu also dared to criticise the parenting methods of her beloved teacher. How could he! This was completely unacceptable, and therefore he became the target of most of Ahsoka's mischief. For example, recently, he dared to say that Plo was too lenient with Asoka and rarely scolded her, and that if he were in his place, he would have whipped the insolent girl long ago so that she would know her place and not take advantage of her teacher. Asoka flew into a rage, and that same evening, the door of the Master's private office was decorated with his portrait. She personally took the time to photograph him on her datapad and, using a graphics editor, drew leather swimming trunks and a whip on him. This was far from the only such incident in four years, but some young female adepts still looked slyly at Mace and casually asked if the leather whip hurt. And each of these antics was inevitably accompanied by a rebuke from Plo. He never scolded Asoka and never even raised his voice to her, but he always knew how to make her understand how much her actions upset him. She felt terribly ashamed, promised solemnly never to do it again, and each time involuntarily broke her word. And that bitter shame served as a reminder of her former self-satisfaction. Even now, at her teacher's words, the girl's eyes filled with tears.
"Forgive me, teacher, I won't behave like this anymore," she said contritely, at that moment truly convinced that this would be the case. But both knew that it was only temporary. Right now, Asoka felt only bitter remorse and a desire to calm the Master.
"I'll believe you again," Plow smiled grimly, "as if I didn't know what would happen next. Now we'd better go to bed, or we'll be like overcooked vegetables tomorrow. I wonder what Master Windu will say if our snoring wakes him up during the Council!
Asoka laughed at his joke, which poured healing balm on her soul. It always meant that her teacher was no longer angry. It was the highest reward for Asoka.
"I'll get him back. I promise. I'll be just like him. I'll do it for you," Asoka repeated like a prayer before falling asleep in her bed. She turned away from the wall and thought about how far she was from perfection.
"That's why all the other students can be what a Jedi is supposed to be, but I can't do it every time? I always want to do things differently than the Code tells us to, and I can't help myself," Asoka thought, staring at the dark blue square of the window above her bed. She had asked herself these questions hundreds of times and had never found an answer, not daring to ask anyone but herself, not even her teacher. It was unclear what was holding her back. Perhaps tomorrow's mission would provide her with the answers she sought.
***
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