Training the "outcasts" of the Serpent Clan had become routine for Komari.

  She would never admit it out loud, but she was beginning to appreciate their presence.

  They were... good company, it had to be admitted.

  One day, while she was filing papers that had not yet been digitized in the Archives with Prison Guard, the archivist droid, he had allowed himself a remark that she had not expected.

  "Statistically, the regular presence of individuals of the same age with a friendly attitude reduces psychological isolation disorders in adolescents who have experienced early trauma."

  He had even brought out an old couple compiling psychological data on the benefits of friendship.

  Komari, at first skeptical, had growled an evasive answer. But, reluctantly, she had to admit that he wasn't entirely wrong.

  For his mental health, his little gang had become essential.

  In a way, they reminded him a bit of a family.

  Lilou, with her apparent naivety, proved to be astonishingly perspicacious.

  Zang, on the other hand, was a well-trove of knowledge, always ready to tell an obscure anecdote about an old master or a rumor in the corridor.

  Tobias, although still very fearful, was making visible progress. He relaxed, became more confident with each session.

  And then there was Tola.

  The taciturn big sister of the group. The one who, despite her young age, always tried to maintain a framework, to stay the course, to remind people of the rules even if no one really listened to them.

  After witnessing the little komari crisis she had said nothing, or rather she had the next day checked the wound on the komari skull which had already healed. Then he had told him that they could talk if Komari felt the need.

  Her behavior deeply annoyed komari can get used to so much solicitude as if she were a fragile thing. And yet a part of her had to admit that she enjoyed it.

  Komari smiled sometimes, looking at them. Without realizing it.

  To his surprise, Windu had not cracked down after their escapade from the Temple.

  Komari didn't believe for a moment that he had swallowed the fable she had served him, a few days earlier, on the steps of the Jedi Shrine.

  Instead, he had been content to be taciturn, true to himself.

  But through the Force, she had sensed something unusual, a form of sympathy for him, discreet but very real.

  He finally came to talk to her as she watched the Clan's training, the staff propped up on her shoulder, ready to strike the first one who let his guard down.

  "I had a discussion with Master Yoda and Master Yaddle about you," he began, his gaze fixed on the young people who were practicing in front of them.

  "Hoooo," she said with a half-smile, already on the defensive.

  "While I don't entirely agree with them... they convinced me to teach you Vaapad. ?

  This statement left her speechless. Komari slowly turned his head towards him, his eyes wide. Until now, they trained together, but above all so that she could learn to better channel her violence.

  "Are you kidding me?"

  "Before you get excited, do you know what the Juyo is?" he asked, unfazed.

  "yes, I read a paper about it. An old form of the sword. Banned by the Order because it is deemed "too aggressive", according to their standards. ?

  Master nodded slowly. He wasn't surprised that she had already looked into the subject.

  "Apart from your impertinence, it is a really dangerous form for the user. The Vaapad is an evolution of this. But unlike the Juyo, it doesn't just tap into emotions... it requires that they be perfectly controlled. ?

  "Where Juyo requires no restraint, no inner discipline," she understood, nodding her head.

  "Exactly. It is self-control that differentiates them. And even if it costs me to admit it... I think you could learn the basics. ?

  Komari raised an eyebrow, half amused, half incredulous.

  "Wait, if I summarize: I'm considered too aggressive, a little too borderline, and you think it would be a good idea to teach me a form of combat that constantly flirts with the limit?"

  Windu inhaled slowly, visibly so as not to react to the provocation.

  "We would never propose this to anyone else. But you... You're already walking on that limit. ?

  He pointed to the young people who were training, with a gesture of his chin.

  "And yet, you protect them. You guide them. You show remarkable control in certain situations. That's why we decided to offer you Vaapad. Because in the end, more than an art of the sword, it is the art of self-control. ?

  Then, more softly, Windu continued, almost in a low voice:

  "And I agree... It could really benefit you. Not just in terms of combat, but mentally. Learn to better channel what you carry inside you. ?

  He paused, his gaze still fixed on her.

  "You already have impressive control of your body. And... You impose on yourself a form of inner control that I would describe as draconian. Even masochistic. And I know you understand what I mean by that. ?

  Komari raised an eyebrow slightly, but said nothing. He was not wrong. Not completely.

  "With proper coaching, you could begin to make peace with yourself. Not to flee, not to bury. Just... take stock. ?

  He finally looked away to turn his attention back to the children in training. A silence set in. Then he continued, more gravely:

  "In spite of my reservations... and despite the more than questionable welcome that the Order has reserved for you, I must admit one thing. Anyone else, who has been through what you've been through... would surely have sunk a long time ago. Completely. In the blackest madness. ?

  "Hey, I'm not crazy," Komari complained, glaring at him.

  Windu raised an eyebrow slightly, without even turning his head.

  "Yes, to others."

  A short tense silence settled between them. Komari folded his arms, ready to fight back, but he was the first to give in.

  "Not entirely," he finally admitted with a resigned sigh.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Komari gave him an exasperated look, but a discreet, almost imperceptible smile came to stretch the corner of his mouth.

  "You know it's the kind of stuff that makes you want to really go crazy, just to prove a point."

  "And that's exactly why we're going to work on your mastery," Windu retorted curtly, though an amused glow crossed his eyes for a moment.

  Here's a revised and fluid version of your scene, while respecting your natural style, dialogue, and character dynamics:

  They watched in silence as the training unfolded in front of them. Tobias faced Tola. The difference in level was obvious, but despite everything, he did surprisingly well. Lilou and Zang, on the other hand, still struggled to overcome a certain timidity in their shots, always hesitating half a second too long before attacking.

  "They have made good progress. They're gaining confidence," Windu agreed, genuinely impressed. "You did a good job in the background."

  Komari shrugged slightly.

  "Teaching them how to handle the sword is not very complicated when you do it well. But the Force... It's beyond my skills.??

  She scratched her head, visibly annoyed by her limitations in this area. The pedagogy of combat and that of the Force were two fundamentally different worlds. Where she excelled in making them move, dodge, hit... Teaching them to feel, to channel, to open up, was another matter.

  Komari had always used the Force without even thinking about it, since she was a little girl. Like breathing or walking. An obvious choice. An extension of herself. And that was the problem: she didn't know how to explain it. At each attempt, she found herself in front of empty, confused looks, as if she were speaking another language to them.

  "I'm waiting for Plo Koon to come back," she added. "I think he can help us on that side. He's really good at teaching.??

  Windu nodded slowly. "Yes. Plo Koon has a knack for making things simple. And he understands children.??.

  "The insiders' competition starts in a few weeks. I heard you won't be participating??He asked her, bluntly.

  Komari nodded slowly.

  "I disagree with this kind of exhibition. I find it unproductive. Instead of selecting future Padawans by taking into account their entire background, their strengths, their weaknesses, their progress. You make them compete against each other... with the fear of failure as the only motivation.??

  Windu did not answer at once. He watched for a few moments as Tobias attempted a clumsy feint, which Tola foiled without difficulty.

  "I know that rumours about the importance of the tournament to be chosen as a Padawan are circulating among the young people," he finally says. "Even in my time, they already existed. But the reality is a little different.??

  "Yes, I know. Future Padawans are spotted during the tournament, whether they win or not. Then, it is their complete file that is studied by the Masters.??

  She paused, her arms crossed.

  "But admit that, in the vast majority of cases... it is the victors that are chosen.??

  Windu sighed. He does not contradict her at once. Because she was right. And that she knew it.

  Part of him wondered how she had gained access to the Padawan's recruitment procedures, as well as the statistics. But he chooses, prudently, not to ask the question.

  "It's not for nothing that there are two tournaments a year. They allow us to observe the evolution of the participants, to analyse their reactions...?He paused, looking for her gaze. "But that doesn't explain why you refuse to participate."

  Komari's staff slammed sharply into the ground. The initiates changed their exercise immediately, without a word being spoken. A conditioned reflex. Windu noted the fluidity of the movement, the discipline acquired.

  "You confronted me to show me the limits of violence, didn't you?" she replied with a wry smile. "Do you really think it would be wise to put me in front of them?"

  She stared at him straightforwardly, an ironic sparkle in her eyes. Windu understood. It wasn't arrogance. It was a cold lucidity. There were only a few initiates, even among the most advanced, capable of sustaining a duel against her. And some older Padawans would probably lose face... or something else.

  And even then, it was assuming that it would be limited to the rules of the tournament.

  Without it... She would use everything she knew. All the means at his disposal. Even if it means jeopardizing the health of his opponents. Or worse. An unprepared Jedi could lose feathers.

  They exchanged a few more words before Windu went back to his duties. Komari would have liked to involve him, in spite of himself, in the training by designating him as a target for a mass-attack exercise, but she suspected that the others would not have moved at all. No one would have dared to raise a hand against Master Windu, even for laughs.

  After a good morning of training, their small group headed to the refectory. Despite the still somewhat unpleasant atmosphere that Komari provoked among many of the initiates, they ate happily. The laughter was sincere, the bickering good-natured.

  All except her.

  Again, Komari was forced to eat the medicinal roots that were prescribed to her. Despite the jokes of others about the questionable look or taste of the dish, she swallowed her portion in silence, her face impassive, secretly dreaming of a good old grilled rat steak.

  Yes, the cuisine of the lower levels of Nar Shaddaa was seriously lacking in refinement... but at least she had taste.

  With the competition approaching, Komari decided to slow down his own training to focus more on that of his comrades. Lilou and Zang still lacked determination in their assaults, while Tobias had to learn to use the Force more instinctively during the rallies.

  Tola... had no obvious shortcomings. She progressed well, naturally, with a constant rigor that commanded respect.

  Deep in thought, Komari felt the arrival of a projectile. She dodged effortlessly, simply moving her head a few inches. The projectile in question was a bone, still surrounded by some remains of meat. A real waste, according to her.

  "Failed!" grumbled several initiates at a table a little further away, laughing.

  Tola sighed at the persistent immaturity of some of the SerpentClan members.

  "Stop, Antonius. Or Komari will humiliate you again," she warned him without raising her voice.

  In response, she received a piece of vegetable right in her hair.

  Tola, who was generally quiet and not very expressive, could not stand being targeted for long. She stood up, frowning, ready to intervene... but was interrupted by Komari's hand, resting quietly on his wrist.

  Surprised, she looked at her. And moaned inwardly when she saw the sadistic smile that had just appeared on her friend's face.

  We're going to have more problems...

  But the problems in question were not what she expected.

  Because a deep and powerful voice suddenly resounds in the canteen:

  "Initiate, do you think it's funny to harass your classmates with food?!"

  They all turned towards the entrance. A huge Wookiee stood in the doorway, which seemed far too small for him.

  Master Tyvokka, with his brows furrowed, exuded a natural authority that chilled the air. At his side, his padawan Plo Koon shook his head gently, visibly resigned.

  Antonius let out a small, high-pitched groan as he straightened up.

  "Master, it's not my fault! Komari started it," he lied in a trembling voice, without the slightest shame.

  This was a mistake.

  The Wookiee's gaze immediately hardens. He didn't even need the Force to smell the lie, but it confirmed his intuition.

  "Don't lie to me, initiate. I saw you and your comrades throw food at Komari's group. What if Komari really decided to start something... you wouldn't realize it until you're on the ground."

  Plo Koon nodded, nodding wholeheartedly.

  "She wouldn't bother with vegetables. She would find a way to break your bones in the most painful way."

  At these words, he widened his eyes and glanced at his master.

  Maybe it wasn't the best thing to say...

  It's really not going to help Komari's reputation... Tola thought, already convinced that her friend had sensed the arrival of the Wookiee master long before anyone else.

  "Good luck, Antonius," Komari sneered as he walked by, his mocking smile in place.

  She didn't wait for an answer, Antonius was too busy stuttering a pitiful excuse anyway and went to meet Plo Koon with quiet casualness, his hands behind his back, almost as if nothing had happened.

  "Master Koon," she greeted, her tone falsely respectful, but her smile sincere. She liked him, this calm Kel Dor, always ready to listen and teach without judging.

  Plo Koon inclina poliment la tête.

  "Komari. Always also... creative in the way you resolve conflicts."

  "I do what I can with what I have," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "But it's true that a good throw of medicinal root lacks impact."

  Tyvokka grunted softly, in a tone that was both reproachful and amused.

  "You have progressed. But will humility be for another life?" "Maybe," she replied unashamedly, before adding, more seriously, "Thank you for coming. I need your help."

  Plo Koon folded his arms, curious.

  "To teach the Force, isn't it?"