Going into any great detail about myself would be an inappropriate expression of ego and pride.

I hold the rank of Jedi Master. I have a Padawan. I am Twi'lek.

(( Ebon Hawk. @Azixoss ))

I no longer have a Padawan.

Ehlial passed his final trials, and was knighted.

It may be inappropriate to be proud of this, but I am, regardless.

It also feels a bit strange, not having a Padawan; Ehlial will always be my student, in a manner of speaking, just not in any official capacity.

Perhaps I should return to Tython for a bit.

It’s rare that anything irritates me.

Things that do irritate me typically have good reason for it.

In this case, it was a nearly mob-like behavior toward my Padawan from other Jedi.

I will grant that a handful were simply discussing Juyo form in general, and were not directing their conversation directly at him, and at least one of the people speaking tried to remind the others that they were addressing a Padawan in a very aggressive manner though, unfortunately, it didn’t seem many heard her.

The others, including Geviana (which was disappointing) directed specific statements at Ehlial, informing him that he had a Master ranging from irresponsible to stupid to downright awful, that he was going to (not that there was a risk, that it was an almost guaranteed fact) fall to the Dark side if he continued, and left him with the impression that his opinion on the matter did NOT matter because he is only a Padawan.

They may not have said that directly, but the few times he tried to defend himself or suggest that his Master wouldn’t allow the training if he felt there was an unreasonable risk, he was shouted down.

I don’t mind what was said in regards to me; I am an adult and a Jedi Master, and they’re entitled to form whatever opinions they have of me based on either fact or facts they just made up.

I do mind when supposed Jedi Knights and Masters nearly gang up on a Padawan who did nothing but try to join in in an ongoing discussion about various lightsaber forms.

That behavior is unacceptable from anyone, but especially so from Jedi.

They lash out based on fear of a lightsaber form that requires more control and ability to detach from allowing emotions to have a personal affect than most people are capable of doing; that fear is, unfortunately, instilled as part of the warnings when it comes to learning lightsaber forms, and it tends to manifest itself in perceived ‘anger’ toward people who use it successfully.

A combination of fear of what would happen if they tried and jealousy and resentment that someone they don’t feel should be successful (in this case, a Padawan) at something they themselves weren’t strong enough to be successful with and—I spend the past two days between myself and Al’dien helping Ehlial rebuild his shaken confidence in himself and in other Jedi.

Geviana, at least, had the good sense to apologize for her behavior toward Ehlial once she managed to calm herself. 

Perhaps it’s not irritation I’m experiencing so much as it is profound disappointment.

Tea Time

"Master Azi’xoss." Bi’ev bowed stiffly, the motion as forced as the pleasant tone of his greeting.

'Don't say Darth Bees. Don't say Darth Bees.' The thought alone caused Azi’xoss to smile. It just so happened that he’d been lucky enough to have the timing coincide with the Sith’s clipped greeting, “Darth Aculaetus. Always a pleasure, I’m sure.”

Azi’xoss was  not entirely certain why Bi’ev had asked to meet with him, though he fully understood the implication of meeting on Voss and in the center of Voss-Ka. 

No hostilities. 

Almost a pity, their last encounter had been, from Azi’xoss’ point of view, highly entertaining and ending with Bi’ev being stuck in the air until long after Azi’xoss had left the abandoned mining facility. He wouldn’t be able to get away with that sort of thing here; not without infuriating the Voss and causing a massive headache (not to mention strategic loss) for the Republic. The thought that the Sith would be operating under the same restrictions left Azi’xoss with very little trepidation over the requested meeting.

Besides, you don’t meet someone you plan to murder in a tea house. Usually.

"Bi’ev, please."
The Pureblood forced a smile, “After all, this is a friendly meeting, is it not? No need for formalities.” He turned aside, motioning for Azi’xoss to enter the teahouse first. The Twi’lek brushed past him, bowing slightly as he did so.

Bi’ev couldn’t tell for certain if the Twi’lek’s expression had shifted from—anything, really. He wasn’t clear as to whether it was just the Jedi’s face or the tattooing around his eyes and mouth that made him appear perpetually vaguely irritated, even if he was smiling, by everything around him or if that was simply how his face actually appeared. Regardless, he couldn’t sense any actual anger or irritation coming from the Jedi, everything almost shrieked placid to the point that it didn’t even bother Bi’ev that something placid wouldn’t bother shrieking to begin with. Perhaps it was just his face.

Bi’ev shook his head slightly, following Azi’xoss to an empty table, “You had me in the position of an easy kill or capture and walked away. Why?” He kept his voice low, not wanting to cause any sort of disturbance in a Voss teahouse, though the undercurrent of the words rang clear.

"You were subdued." The Twi’lek’s shoulders rolled in a lazy shrug as he settled down onto the cushions around the table, "Jedi do not kill a subdued foe."

Bi’ev snorted and had to catch himself to keep from rolling his eyes, “Please—that’s hardly true, and we both know it.” He sunk down onto his own cushions, glowering at the table rather than across it for the moment, “And no capture. I can’t imagine your superiors were pleased about that, especially since it would have been so easy.”

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Whoever thought giving fireworks to a bunch of Initiates ought to be dragged to the back of the Temple and…

…made to sit and meditate on what they’ve done.

While I sneak out there and set off a batch right behind them.

I swear, I’ve lost hearing in one ear.
For the moment, I’ll assume it’s temporary.



“Welcome back, Jedi, are they done properly indoctrinating you already?”

Ehlial stood there silently for a few stunned moments.  Lord Crux had been in a mood ever since they had landed on Tython and he had remained aboard the ship.  Even if the Council allowed him access to the temple grounds so long as he behaved, the stares and reproachful glances weren’t something he tolerated very well.  Despite the long travel through hyperspace, he refused to join Ehlial down on the planet.  

But this utterance was most unusual for the Sith.  No matter how much Crux wanted to voice his disdain he usually kept it to himself or let it out in small cryptic murmurs when he thought the Miraluka wasn’t listening.  

“I’m happy to see you, too, Lord Crux,” Ehlial replied simply and finished climbing the gangplank. 

The Sith snorted, “So you have a sense of humor now? Did they implant that in you while you were down there or should I have the doctor check you for fever?”

“What has gotten into you lately?  We’re still on Tython and that kind of talk is not going endear you to people around here.”

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Does Azi’xoss have to have a stern talk with that bad tempered Sith man again? :|

The things I overhear on Tython.

I know it isn’t necessarily inappropriate to laugh but, really, when faced with a large crowd making announcements of how they’ve dissolved the Council and will be re-forming it within fourteen days, what other reaction is there that is appropriate?

My padawan, myself, a Corelllian Jedi named Gevi, and a mouthy initiate who goes by Vrek stood and watched for some time.

The group has some odd notions about the Jedi in general; evidently your lightsaber’s crystal color determines your path of study. I’m not entirely sure what that says about mine, considering it’s nearly pink. Magenta, if you’re in marketing. Pink if you’re simply not colorblind.

What’s more, they couldn’t keep it straight. The man who appeared to be in charge, told one Initiate that the color for “her path”, which she said was that of a Sage, was yellow. Not five minutes later, he told another who said the same thing that his color was purple, and yet another that theirs was blue.

In retrospect, we probably ought to have intervened; it can’t be good for those initiates to be sucked into a false ‘order’ like that. On the other hand, they were on Tython and it’s very possible that what was going on was some sort of test to weed out the exceptionally gullible initiates in this batch.

After we moved inside, Gevi and Vrek—it wasn’t even a conversation, it was mutual complaining between the two of them about how inane they think the Order is, then flipping back to how they didn’t mean it that way, whatever that means. Both of them have far too little control over their own emotional states to be useful as Jedi. She has unnatural attachments to droids, from what I can tall, and he gets angry if he’s even mildly frustrated. Yet, of course, the problem isn’t with them, STARS NO, it couldn’t be, they’re perfect in their own minds; no, no, the problem is, of course, the Order.

It makes me thankful that I have a Padawan who has some level of self-awareness and realizes that his failures are his failures and not a failure of the Order itself.


Speaking of, I need to have a word with that Master Al’dien about—well,  many things, based on my first impression of him, but mainly to ensure that he keeps his training to saber technique only and doesn’t try to impart whatever perverse interpretation of the code he has that allows him what I swear are inappropriate attachments to other people. He and that red Twi’lek were far, far too nervous in the presence of another Jedi Master (not to mention far too eager to leave as a pair), in this case myself, to not have an inappropriate attachment that ought to be severed for Master Al’dien’s own well being. I certainly don’t want a Jedi of that sort, who believes they’re somehow unique or special enough that they can pick and choose which parts of the Code to follow, trying to impart that philosophy onto my Padawan.

Of course, it won’t be worded that way. It would be incredibly stupid of me to word it that way.

I’ve had the chance, recently, to get away from Hoth and catch up with my Padawan. I do hope he doesn’t feel he’s being neglected.

Regardless, we met on the Fleet, where he was in conversation with a couple of other people. Some young man who continually kept his hair in his eyes—far too tempting to tell him to get it cut or tie it back. Honestly…how does he even see to aim those blasters properly with all that hair in his face?

The other person present was a Lethan Twi’lek man, who seemed friendly, if a bit—uncomfortable around me. I never think of myself as the sort that would make someone else uncomfortable, especially since, physically, there is nothing to suggest it. Ah well, some get nervous around Jedi, I suppose.

Speaking of, another Jedi Master joined us, briefly, but left with the Twi’lek. I do hope nothing inappropriate is going on there; a Jedi should know better, after all.

Ehlial, as usual, had dozens of questions, very few of which were appropriate for discussion in a cantina. Many related to ‘issues’ he had heard of other Jedi having, wondering if he was somehow abnormal for not struggling with attachments. He may be lucky, in that regard, or he may simply be stronger and better trained than a good many of his (and my) peers.

Well, that’s just lovely.

I’ve lost track of time as to how long I’ve been on Hoth.

Oh, I can leave any time, technically.

Technically, the Republic has no authority to order me anywhere—well, they do, it’s more that they have no authority to make me accept.

Hoth really isn’t that terrible when it isn’t mid-day; it’s blinding at that point. 
The cold, at this point, I can handle with proper equipment 

Regardless, I suppose I could martyr myself, say no and deal with the hassle that would come from Tython, go elsewhere, or anything of that nature, however, I rather like the idea of people thinking that I’m a little off because I choose to stay on that forsaken planet.

…and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the fact that Republic and Jedi presence there really does seem to bother the Sith to the point that they continue to send their own people. In that case, I suspect they’re sending the ones that they hope will freeze to death.

Dried lekku as an aphrodisiac?

Honestly, do people actually believe such things?


They obviously do or that grating Sith woman wouldn’t be finding people to buy her ‘supply’ and that Rattataki woman wouldn’t keep them on hand.

"You need something that looks a bit more majestic."

There are times that I’m certain some clothing is designed as a joke.

Most hats look something just shy of ridiculous on Twi’lek, even if we wrap our lekku.


This thing has to be a joke. I’ve never seen anyone wearing it outside of a humorous situation.

I’m not a tall man by any means, but this thing hits the top of the door frames on my ship. What kind of person wears these sorts of things?

If by ‘majestic’, the helpful woman meant, ‘absolutely ridiculous’, she hit the mark.

The robes are nice though, even if the shoulder design is slightly odd; at least I don’t look quite so stick-thin in them.

Regardless, I am not wearing this hat. That sounds a bit petulant,  I’m aware, but, really, I prefer to remain somewhat understated in terms of looks.