There's a flash of annoyance across Siri's face. If this young man had not previously proclaimed himself a prince, she would've said something sarcastic or snarky with her chin raised defiantly in that way she'd learned to do in the wake of her padawan's leaving of the Order. However, the structure of things and her desperate clinging to that which she remembers keeps her at bay, keeps her calm.

"They allow all manner of gender and species, sir. That's not what makes us qualified to be knights; it's our talent, our midichlorian counts. The Republic is not as xenophobic as the Separatists make it out to be; nor is the Order."