#young!darius

// 1. I think I'm going to redo Darius's timeline (since taking these classes is showing me ALL KINDS of things I can do better with him now)

//2. He's going to be blamed, tried, & convicted for the Heraldy's connection to the Rebel Alliance. Which means he's heading to Coruscant with the "Either you're going to serve in the army as a conscript or you're going to work on Kessel as a convict. Choose."

//and he was like "How about door number three?" and promptly escapes before his arresting officer can stop him.

//Fast forward to him escaping into Huttspace and changing his whole appearance and identity to escape the Imperials.

//So he'd totally go from this:

//To something like this:

Darius bit his tongue as he worked to disassemble the blaster and reassemble it as he was instructed. He couldn't even argue the reason Tajur was angry with him. He'd been with Tajur for five assignments since completing his training. Five. He should know the ropes by now! But even after months of training, and months more of on-the-ground assignments, he'd still failed this. He'd hesitated when he should have acted and yielded direction to others when he should have stuck to the orders Tajur had given him.

"I know! I'm--" one of the pieces jammed and it took everything in him not to slam the body of the blaster down. He took a deep breath and slowly put the half-assembled blaster down. "I know.... I froze... I turned it over to Kajma when I should have kept to the plan. I..."

Darius looked up at Tajur, his gold and green eyes watching him intently. It was hard to see facial expressions behind the Mandalorian helmet when they were on a job, but the tone of voice had a force to it that was both inspiring and reassuring. It made him feel like he was in the House of Spring again, an apprentice just starting out. But that's what he was, wasn't he? A new apprentice just starting out on the road of a Mandalorian?

A boy peeked his head around the corner of one of the halls, trying not to be noticed. These halls didn't look like the academy. Where were the sandstone murals? Where were the draperies? Where was he? A hospital? It looked like a hospital. Had he gotten sick or something?

He crept a little farther down the hall, looking both ways down an intersection. To an onlooker, he may have seemed a bit odd; a young lad wearing a white tunic shirt hemmed with blue embroidery and matching trousers. A dark cloth was wrapped around his eyes, though it didn't seem to impede him at all. He was a thin lad, probably no older than 12, with shoulder-length dark hair pulled into a tight queue.

He startled at the sound of the man's voice and spun around to see who was talking. He let out a soft gasp as he saw the taller man all dressed in white. Was he an apprentice too? No, couldn't be, he was too old. Videre only took apprentices when they were young! And the man didn't feel like a Vidor apprentice. He had a different feeling altogether - a dark feeling, like the shadow of a bad storm coming in.