Krawruuk's room held the same Temple simplicity as Aavruun's—smooth walls, clean air, a low sleeping pallet folded tight against one side—but the space looked meticulous in a way most nine-year-olds never managed. Aavruun kept it that way. Blank slate or not, discipline started small and led to big results. The training items sat squared up. The folded cloths stayed stacked. Even the little water cup by the wall vent sat in the same spot every day.
Barriss Offee sat cross-legged on the floor across from the twins, her back straight the way she always kept it when she was thinking. At nine, she stayed small and neat in a kid way—green Mirialan skin under the room's glowpanels, dark hair pulled back to keep it off her face, and the early beginnings of her people's markings kept subtle at her age. Her eyes tracked details. When she blinked, it came slow and steady, like she was taking in the board and the twins in the same sweep.
Between them sat the strategy board they'd been playing on: a flat grid with carved lanes and small pieces that clicked softly when moved. Aavruun's white-furred hand hovered over the last piece for a beat, then set it down with a decisive tap.
Aavruun felt Krawruuk's satisfaction roll through their bond—heavy, simple. Victory had been achieved.
Barriss looked at the final layout, then looked back at the twins. Her mouth tightened for a second—calculation, acceptance, already replaying the match.
Barriss said, "You two win… this time."
Aavruun gave a low, pleased rumble. A win was a win.
Barriss's play style stayed consistent. She avoided aggressive pushes. She built slow control, tried to starve you out, tried to win by positioning and patience. It worked on most kids. Against the twins, it had made her predictable, and the record sat around seventy-thirty in the twins' favor.
Aavruun could see she was bothered even if she tried to keep it off her face. She was losing a lot more lately.
Aavruun decided to help. He leaned forward a fraction and rumbled in Shyriiwook, his voice low in his chest.
Aavruun growled in Shyriiwook, "It's okay to be decisive."
Barriss looked at him, then at the board. Her eyes moved over the lanes like she was checking her own habits.
Aavruun kept going, still in Shyriiwook, keeping it direct.
Aavruun growled in Shyriiwook, "You're very smart and wise, but you're passive. A sword can protect just as well as a shield. If you always go defensive, even a simple strategy wins once people know what you're going to do."
Barriss stared at the board another second, then nodded once, small and controlled.
Barriss gathered the pieces with careful fingers, stacking them by type without looking like she was trying. The pieces made soft taps as they nested together.
Barriss said, "Speaking of we." She meant their bond. Everyone in the Temple treated it like a Force thing tied to their birth, and Aavruun and Krawruuk kept it at that.
Aavruun watched her hands. He watched the way her eyes flicked between him and Krawruuk, like she was comparing the space around them.
Barriss said, "Your… bond. People talk about it. I want to understand what you feel."
Krawruuk did what he usually did. He stayed quiet, ears angled forward, posture steady. He let Aavruun handle the talking.
Aavruun had decided to let his fur grow out. Small braids ran down the back of his head now, tight and neat, the ends bound with plain ties that stayed put during training. Krawruuk kept the same style. The contrast mattered—one white, one black—and the similarity mattered too.
Aavruun answered in Shyriiwook, the words coming out as a grounded growl. "Hard to describe. Like breathing." He tipped his chin toward Krawruuk. "I feel him. He feels me."
Barriss's eyes narrowed slightly. She didn't accept that as a full answer. She asked more questions, one after another, like she was building a diagram in her head.
Barriss said, "Is it constant?"
Aavruun nodded once.
Aavruun growled in Shyriiwook, "Always."
Barriss said, "Is it words?"
Aavruun shook his head.
Aavruun growled in Shyriiwook, "Concepts. Pressure. A push." He flexed his fingers once, claws sliding out a fraction and back in. "Sometimes a picture. Mostly a sense."
Barriss said, "Can you close it off?"
Aavruun paused. He answered straight.
Aavruun growled in Shyriiwook, "We never tried."
A short pulse of agreement moved through their bond from Krawruuk—simple confirmation, no words.
Barriss watched that exchange like she'd felt something in the air even if she couldn't name it. She kept going, patient and stubborn in the way she chased every topic.
Barriss said, "It shows in drills."
Aavruun gave a small shrug.
Aavruun growled in Shyriiwook, "We work together."
That was the public truth. Their timing on teams looked uncanny. People noticed. The twins didn't bother hiding that part.
Barriss asked a few more questions, and Aavruun answered what he could without giving her anything that didn't already fit the Temple's assumptions. Barriss stayed skeptical, but the curiosity never dropped.
After a while, the conversation shifted into the Force in general, the way it always did with Barriss when she ran out of clean angles on one subject.
Barriss said, "When you meditate—when you actually get a deep connection—what works best for you?"
Aavruun felt Krawruuk's attention sharpen through their bond. Useful question.
Aavruun answered in Shyriiwook, simple and blunt. "A hard workout works best for us. We exhaust the body and the mind first, and then sitting still comes easier."
Barriss nodded like that clicked.
Barriss said, "That makes sense. When you've burned off the extra energy, it's easier to stay still. Your breathing is already steady, and your muscles stop pulling your attention away every few seconds."
Aavruun liked the logic. He liked that she didn't dress it up.
Barriss said, "I prefer quieter ways. Walks help. Music helps. If the sound stays consistent, it gives your brain something simple to follow while everything else slows down."
Aavruun tipped his head.
Aavruun growled in Shyriiwook, "Music?"
Barriss nodded.
Barriss said, "Temple recordings. Some are old pieces from different worlds. Some are just tones. The repetition keeps your mind from chasing every thought that pops up. It's easier to settle when there's one steady thing to listen to."
Before the conversation could go deeper, a knock hit the door—two quick taps, confident.
Aavruun and Krawruuk stood. Aavruun crossed the room and opened the door.
Ferus Olin stood in the hall, human, nine, hair cut short and already falling forward at the edges. He held himself with that rigid, controlled posture he always had—shoulders squared, hands still, eyes focused like he was waiting for instruction.
Ferus said, "Are you ready?"
Aavruun nodded once.
Krawruuk stepped up beside him, silent, eyes steady.
They'd planned to spar this afternoon.
Barriss stood and smoothed her simple robe down with both hands. She didn't wait for an invitation. Books and philosophy stayed her preference, and everyone in this room knew it.
Barriss said, "Goodbye."
Aavruun gave a short rumble of acknowledgment. Krawruuk mirrored it with a quieter sound.
Ferus said, "Have a good day," and turned back toward the corridor.