The Jedi Temple’s corridors were quiet as Master Kyle Katarn led Vila away from the training grounds and its noise. They said nothing for the past five minutes, only walking side by side, entering the ancient temple's depths as the young twi'lek followed the old Jedi Master. She was still frustrated; her previous anger was only subsiding, but it was still present, simring under her violet-colored skin, turning it almost pinkish. Master Katarn's steps were asured, neither hurried nor slow, and Vila followed begrudgingly, her lekku twitching in her frustration. She wanted to fight, but her encounter with Iowi was cut short... Even then, what the older Padawan did was the last straw. Though she respected Master Katarn, she was in no mood for a lecture, and she knew she would find him again and challenge him to a duel. As many tis as it took, right until he accepted, and she made him kneel before her feet.
While thinking about her victory, they entered a smaller training chamber, one used for more intimate lessons, surprising Vila after she recognized the arrangent within the chamber. The room was sparsely furnished—only a few ditation cushions and a simple rack of training sabers lined the walls, holding old, maybe even decades-old hilts. Master Katarn gestured for Vila to sit, and after a mont’s hesitation, she dropped down cross-legged, arms crossed over her chest, still showing her indignant mood.
The old Jedi remained standing for a mont, observing her with an unreadable expression behind her grey beard. Then, with a slight exhale, he settled onto one of the cushions across from her. Their silence continued, stretched between them, slowly becoming heavy and slightly uncomfortable for Vila. She was about to speak when Master Katarn opened his mouth.
“You’re angry,” he said finally, his voice level, without accusations or edge.
"Hmph..." Vila snorted. “You think?”
“I do.” Katarn studied her, his piercing gaze assessing, not judging. “And you have every right to be.”
“Wait, what?” That one sentence caught Vila off guard completely. She blinked her eyes, her defensive posture faltering, her hands lowering to her sides.
"Padawan Vila," Katarn leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Anger isn’t inherently wrong. It’s an emotion, and we are all made of them. Every living being has emotions because if we don't, we are nothing but droids. And emotions aren’t good or evil. They just are. They turn good or evil by us, by how we use them.”
"..." Vila narrowed her eyes. “That’s not Iowi, who has been spewing whenever I hear his mouth opening.”
“True,” Katarn admitted. “But he is not a Master, so don't take his words as our teachings. Still, there is truth in what Iowi believes in!"
"Really?" Vila scoffed with sarcasm.
"Yes, because unchecked anger leads to reckless actions. As I said... it depends on how we use our emotions. It’s what you do with that anger that matters.”
"I... Understand..." She exhaled sharply, looking away, feeling her cheeks blush because deep down, he understood Katarn's words. “He was provoking . Iowi. Doing so for weeks! He and his little clique... They’ve been twisting things, turning people against and Kael. If you ask , Master, they are more evil than when I get angry!”
“I know,” Katarn said simply. “And I know why it makes you angry. I know why it feels familiar to you, too. We all know, because we are testing you all. Being a Padawan ans learning and going through experiences that can twist and turn a Jedi. To go through emotions under our watch so you don't get confounded and end up... in a way that you would regret yourself in the future.”
Vila stiffened at his words, slowly blinking, glancing at his face but never for long, unable to keep eye contact with him.
"We all are aware, Padawan Vila." Katarn continued. “You spent your childhood being judged, being controlled. Told what you were worth and who you could be. A slave. Now, you’re finally free. And here cos Iowi, trying to put you in another little box, telling you what you are and what you aren’t.”
"..." She clenched her fists. “Exactly.”
"Vila..." Katarn’s expression softened. “That anger? It’s justified. But if you let it control you, you’re letting him win.”
"I..." Vila swallowed, her grip on her emotions wavering, her fists balling up and relaxing, switching between emotions constantly. “So what? I’m just supposed to let it go?!”
“No,” Master Katarn continued, shaking his head. “You’re supposed to understand it. And then direct it. Make it serve you instead of the other way around. Anger will lead you to make decisions that can ruin you and everything around you... Anger doesn't tolerate friends; it only wants you. To be alone... abandoned. Forever.”
"That..." Vila frowned. “That sounds... dangerous.”
"Of course." Katarn chuckled. “That’s why the old Jedi liked their answers simple: Anger bad, serenity good. But life isn’t that clean-cut. You should know this. I certainly do.”
"..." She hesitated, feeling she knew a few things, or should, as she accompanied Kael a few tis to the library. Yet, at that mont, she was drawing blanks, so she opened her mouth and asked, “Because of your past?”
"Yes." Master Katarn nodded. “I didn’t grow up as a Jedi, Vila. I was trained as a soldier. A spy. I fought because I hated the Empire for what it did to my family. That hatred, that anger, drove forward. It made strong.” His gaze darkened slightly, recalling those years. “Then I learned the Force. And for a ti, I walked the sa dangerous line you’re walking now. I let my emotions drive . And you know what?”
“What?” Vila swallowed, asking without thinking.
“It worked for a while." Katarn exhaled through his nose while answering. "My anger made powerful. But it also made reckless. I hurt people I shouldn’t have. Made choices that led too close to the Dark Side.”
"Really?" Vila’s eyes widened slightly. “But you never fell.”
“No,” Katarn agreed. “Because I learned. The Dark Side isn’t about feeling anger. It’s about surrendering to it. Letting it dictate your actions. Just like you almost did back there.”
Vila remained silent, processing his words. Her eyes looked at the old man's aged visage, the decades of hard-earned experience visible in his every movent.
“Anger gives you energy, Vila. But you have to channel it.” He tapped his temple. “You stay in control. Not your emotions. That is the key to balancing it within you.”
"But..." Vila stared at the ground, absorbing the lesson she was being given, but... But she still felt angry the mont she thought back and saw Iowi's face before her mind's eye. “So… what do I do next ti?”
"Rember my words." Katarn smiled faintly. “Breathe. Center yourself. Use your anger, but don’t let it use you.”
"I will... try..." She nodded slowly, then looked up, asking with a hardened gaze. “What about Iowi?”
"That..." Katarn sighed. “He thinks he’s right. And that makes him dangerous in his own way. But you? You don’t have to prove anything to him. Isn't that true, Padawan Vila? You just be better.”
"..." Vila let out a breath, so of her tension fading, making her whisper an answer. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask,” Katarn said, standing. “As for Iowi, when his ti cos, he will also have a visit from one of the Masters. We all are watching, even if you don't notice us, Vila. Now, get so rest. You’ll need it.”
...
....
......
Elsewhere in the Temple, Iowi sat alone in quiet ditation. He should have felt satisfied... He had said his piece. He had exposed Vila’s instability in front of everyone. And yet… sothing gnawed at him. The last-minute intervention... Sothing about it made him worried. The way Master Katarn had stopped him. The way his words carried weight made it seem as if he knew more than he let on. Iowi had expected a simple reprimand, but the respected Master had looked at him like he was the one who needed to reflect.
He frowned, folding his arms.
“I was right,” he muttered to himself. “Wasn’t I? I was... I know...”
Seeking clarity, Iowi closed his eyes once again and reached out with the Force. He sought balance and a sense of certainty and wanted to follow the Jedi code—the old Jedi way. But as he stretched his awareness, the currents of the Force around him seed clouded and muddled. They missed their usual clarity, obfuscating the answer he was looking for, sothing that reminded him of his early years when he first ca to the Academy. Instead of affirming his beliefs, the Force offered only uncertainty.
His brow furrowed at the experience. He had ditated many tis before, and in the past two years, it had always happened with perfect clarity. But now, his mind flickered between different monts, unfocused. Sotis, it showed him the way Vila had reacted, the tension in her voice, and the pain behind her anger. He wanted to see only recklessness and instability. Yet there was—sothing deeper. That girl... She carried sothing with her that was hurting her, and in turn, it began hurting Iowi, making him wince.
"Was I wrong?" He asked, realizing what was that was obscuring his vision.
Doubt. It was doubt.
His breathing, coming to an understanding, beca slightly more rapid, and his focus wavered. He shouldn’t feel this way. He had trained longer than Vila, than Kael. He was the one who understood discipline. He was the one in control. He read them right, and he should be correct. But...
Was he?
The Force remained silent, offering no easy answer. No vision ca. No premonition. And for the first ti, a sliver of uncertainty settled deep in his heart.
And he hated it.
"Hate...?" His eyes snapped open, sweat rolling down his forehead. "No... there is no emotion... there is only the Force..."
Yet, the more he mumbled the mantra, the more anxious he beca.
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