"It certainly was."

Lots of things happened so probably Marlo will forget to ask about the mind wiping thing. 

(It's not safe to let organics know what you're scared of.)

He hasn't forgotten. But he thinks maybe it's a bad idea to remind Elvee, who he hasn't known for very long yet, that Marlo could hurt him very badly if he chose; he doesn't ask. 

"Do you need anything for the night?" 

"I don't sleep."

He nods. 

Deserts get too cold at night to meditate outside, regardless of how much he prefers to do it alone; he finds a place large enough to lie down in and sits there. 

(There is no emotion; there is peace.) 

He examines what his feelings are — curiosity; a fondness for Elvee; a relief that he cannot place. 

(There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.) 

Where is that relief coming from? That he was given this assignment, that he found the man so quickly — ah. That he hasn't had to fight him yet. 

(There is no passion; there is serenity.) 

Wondering what the man meant by the Grey Jedi will bring him nowhere good; he reminds himself not to let himself be led into traps, closes his eyes and cuts the feeling away. 

The fondness for Elvee he takes and turns in his hands, examines; it doesn't look like it's harming anything just yet, even if it is strange. He lets it stay. 

The relief — he isn't sure about the relief. Relief that he hasn't needed to fight someone obviously very competent seems fair, but relief that he was given an assignment that wouldn't necessarily involve combat is less so, and he can't see a way to disentangle them. He pulls that feeling apart as best as he can — relief at not needing to kill is not wrong, he thinks, and he lets that remain where it will. 

(There is no chaos, there is harmony.) 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

(There is no death, there is the Force.) 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

He finds himself more able to sleep than he might have thought. 

Elvee spends the night jacked in, neatly arranging all the information he has about Count Dooku, lightsaber users who are not themselves Force users, the history of Jedi joining the Dark Side, and Grey Jedi.

In the morning he asks Elvee about lightsaber users who are not Force users. 

(He conspicuously does not ask about Grey Jedi.) 

"There aren't many, especially if you exclude everyone who sliced their hands off," Elvee says. "It's generally believed that the instincts and quick reaction time the Force gives you are required to be able to use a lightsaber safely, which is why it is the weapon of the Jedi. If that man is truly not Force sensitive, he's very exceptional."

"What information do we have about Count Dooku?" 

"He was once a respected Jedi Master, trained by Yoda himself. He fell to the Dark Side of the Force after the death of his former padawan. He is powerful within the Confederacy of Independent Systems, which is rebelling against the Galactic Republic."

He nods. 

"...I'm fairly sure we'll be seeing that man again soon whether we want to or not. Do you think the information on the data stick is worth the risk?" 

"Yes," Elvee says quickly. Then he reconsiders. "But I'm a knowledge droid so I'm probably a bad thing to ask."

"You're the one who's reading it," and he hands Elvee the stick. "Who else would I ask?" 

"Well, I'm going to say 'yes' regardless, because I always want to have more information. It's in my programming."

"Fair enough. Here — do you have a port for it —" 

Of course he has a port for it. What do you take him for, a protocol droid?

After a while he says, "Asha has stripped most of the useful metadata from the data stick. But there's a number at which you can holocall him, and also some recipes."

"Thoughtful of him." 

He tries the number; he's aware that there's probably some kind of trap waiting for him, but there doesn't look to be anything else to do. 

Asha answers. He appears to be on some sort of military vessel, and also resting his feet on an important command console.

"Nice to talk to you in a context where I don't have to kill you."

"Clearly you didn't have to kill me before. 

I'm informed your name is Asha?" 

"It's what my friends call me."

That isn't an answer. 

"I'm Marlo," he says, instead of trying to get a real name out of him. 

"Marlo Aliya. Your master had nothing but positive things to say about you, you know."

"Did she." 

"Yep! Very dedicated, very self-controlled, very compassionate, full of love and concern for all living things, good at stabbing. All the essential Jedi Knight traits."

"I am aware that the question you want from me is How do you know my master."