Honey guess what!
I'm pregnant!

High upon the peaks of mountain Or'ena, the ruins of the Velastari temple glinted in the setting sun. A loan figure sat crossed legged at the edge of the cliff, with his back to the ancient building. The winds shifted, tugging at the Miralukas' long hair and headband.

Revs reached inside of his robes and pulled out a flask. Taking a long drink, the alcohol helping fight off the feeling of being cold.
" Do you know why we don't call them targets?" The voice of his first master Celevon Erinos echoed in his head.
"Because a target implies that they may escape. We refer to them as deaders, because once you have accepted the contract they are dead. Failure will not be tolerated."

The words of his old teacher were quickly replaced by those of Marick Arconae. "Quit wasting time. You have one purpose, eliminate the threats and move on with your mission. We do not take prisoners, nor do we leave survivors."

Revs had been trained by some of the Brotherhood's top assassins during the time since he graduated from the Shadow Academy on Arx. His career started with killing petty criminals who were wanted dead by rival gang member. From there he would move on to take out major underworld crime lords in Port O'rval. He had fought in two wars. From fighting on the front lines, to assassinating enemy generals in their sleep. He had never questioned his training, never thought twice about taking a life. But now here with the Jedi…..things were changing.

He had come to Odan-Urr in a desperate attempt to get his younger sister away from the Shadow Clan. She had graduated at the top of her class, and the thought of his baby sister being made into a weapon or left to the hands of a Darkside user who used torture for a teaching tool made the Shadesworn sick to his stomach. Here training with the Jedi, her command of the Force had excelled. Even Revs himself had learned a few new tricks, and even found his entire outlook on things changing.

The Miralukas mind wandered to a recent mission he had run. It was a simple job, to hunt a rogue Togruta that had been harrowing a local village over whether or not they should live as farmers or hunters. It was a simple enough task. The assassin could have easily killed the target and been done with the job, but Aura had requested that he not kill the poor hunter.

The scene played out in Revs head again. The Togruta laying on the ground, the viridian blade of the Mystics lightsaber to its neck. One quick push and the job would have been over right there, but Revs stopped. The Zeltron standing behind him tensed as if waiting to see what the former Shadesworn would do. Revs still couldn't figure why he chose to spare the Togruta's life, but if it made the boss happy he guessed. Maybe he was going soft, maybe he was just getting sick of killing. Either way he decided to take his first prisoner that day. Much to Aura and the rest of the teams surprise.

*Maybe it's time to turn a new page.* he thought to himself. *Maybe it's time to just settle down and live a peaceful life for once.* Revs chuckled at the thought. "Yea and maybe I'll quit drinking and settle down. Find a good girl." He stumbled a little as he stood up, talking to himself "Or maybe I can go back to Port O'rval. Lots of good drinks and women there."

Revs turned his back to the setting sun and started to walk into the long forgotten temple. "I hope they still got some beds in here."

The doors to the Shadow Academy's training room slid open, allowing a Human dressed as an Arconan officer and a Mirialan wearing Novitiate robes to enter the training area. “Go get each of us a training lightsaber. We are going to work on Form Zero,” Cawthren ordered. He watched the apprentice slowly walk over to the weapons rack, seemingly distracted.

The Knight watched the younger Force user as he removed the top of his officer's uniform. “Are you okay?” he inquired. “You seem off today, as if something is on your mind.”

The Novitiate paused before grabbing the training weapons and turning back his instructor. “I've just been thinking a lot, Master. About the Collective.”

“Ahh. I see,” Cawthren acknowledged as he took the weapon from the apprentice. Activating the blue blade of the saber, the pair started to go through the motions of Form Zero in a slow, deliberate pattern. “So tell me. What is it about the Collective that is bothering you?”

The Mirialan shifted from one stance to the next as he thought carefully on how to word his response. “Well it bothers me how they hunt us down. Force users, I mean. There are even rumors that they will attack us here at the academy.” The Novitiate paused for brief second before finishing. “How do you deal with it, Master? I mean knowing that you and everyone you know are a wanted just because you command the Force?”

Cawthren increased the speed of the his strikes, forcing the trainee to react faster or be hit. “I train, every day. I read every report that is released, and I learn as much as I can about the enemy's capabilities.”

The Knight blocked a slow strike as the the flow of the training was reversed, putting him on defence. “That doesn't answer my question, Master. How do you deal with it mentally, the fact that an assassin could attack you at any moment?” the Mirialan responded

“I told you. I train.” Cawthren chuckled as he parried the a slash to his left side. “You never know when you will be targeted by an enemy, but if you train you will be more likely to survive the encounter,” the Officer informed as he reversed the flow of practice and started attacking again. “You must constantly work on improving yourself.”

Cawthren seemed to space out as he talked. The slow deliberate motions he was making for the training were now becoming faster and more frequent. “I train at least an hour a day. To not just maintain but improve my skills. I try to learn new techniques, new strategies, any trick that I can find to give me an advantage in battle!”

A scream brought the Knight's focus back to the task at hand. The Apprentice was holding his side. A red whelp had appeared across his ribs where Cawthren's training lightsaber had landed a blow.

“Are you okay?” he asked, showing concern for the Novitiate. As an Officer he tried not to make it a habit of actually injuring his subordinates during training.

“I'm okay, Master. It just stings a little.” The Apprentice winced.

“Well I truly am sorry,” Cawthren reassured. “Here, let me put up the training saber. You get to the Medbay and get that checked out.”

The Knight took the weapons from the Mirialan and helped him stand up straight. “Look, as far as the Collective goes. The stronger you are, the better you will be able to protect yourself and others around you. So, just focus on your training. Worry about the rest when the time comes.”

The Novitiate thanked him as he turned to leave the training room. Cawthren hoped that the advice he gave would work as well for the young Force user as it has for himself. But he may need to up his own training for the next time he spared with that one.