On Kamino, there were three kinds of adults right now, according to Ordo’s initial risk assessments: those who would hurt him, those who bore him no ill will, and Kal. Sergeant Rau, he determined, belonged to the middle category.
He submitted to the ruffling with grace. It’s a common gesture from these adults, he’s learning. Affection was still strange and new, but he liked it very much. Maybe, Rau could be of help, more than the affection Ordo craved.
Ordo shifted the datapad held against his chest, trying to look as if he didn’t just separate the item from its owner. The Nulls rendered unusable the couple they pilfered yesterday–the perils of learning by trial and error–and they needed more to practice with. He suspected Rau could guess the datapad was stolen; it seemed most of these sergeants quickly understood the little Nulls were sticky-fingered, not just because Kal was generous with the uj’alayi. But, it wasn’t Rau’s datapad, and maybe he’d be willing to help Ordo keep it.
“Sir, I’m lost.” He’s not, and he wondered if Rau could guess that too. “If you’re not busy, can you help me? I’m scared.” That part was true; Ordo still lived in fear, believing if the Kaminoans caught him alone, it was the end. If he can get Rau to escort him back, he won’t have to worry about running into them. Rau wasn’t Kal, the only person Ordo could trust to protect him, but Rau was a worthwhile shield. He bore no ill will, after all, far as he could tell.