ಠ_ಠ

Honestly, do people actually believe such things?

Rhetorical.

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.

In the past two weeks:

1. I have been somehow mistaken for a woman. Thrice. Not entirely sure how that happens, considering I have no physical characteristics of a woman, nor does my voice sound feminine.
2. I have been told that I’m ‘too emotional’ for Jedi for mentioning that Ilum’s climate was mildly unpleasant.
3. I have watched a group calling themselves the “true” Jedi Order do nothing but stand around the Temple, drink, and complain about how Jedi are ‘stupid’.
4. I have had to turn away at least three Initiates who were hoping to have me take them as a Padawan. Unfortunately, we aren’t Sith, and tend to stick to only one at a time for the benefit of the student.
5. I have been told that I’m ‘not emotional enough’ for not flying into a panic under ambush situations.
6. I have come across several different schematics for various hilts and crystals; that’s been quite enjoyable work.
7. I finally finished going over all of my tattoos again. Some were beginning to fade quite badly. The tattoos around my eyes I find most difficult to do on my own. However, that is what meditation techniques are for. Still, it’s quite painful.
8. I do need to remember to set some extra time aside for Ehlial; unfortunately, I also need to make certain that it doesn’t interfere with current commitments. My Padawan is important, of course, but certainly not more important than anyone else. Thankfully, he’s bright enough to understand that concept.
9. I managed to offend some man who assumed that, since I rebuffed advances by a couple of women, that I would not rebuff his. Evidently, he was under the impression that Jedi who refrained from physical entanglements were a myth. That did not really excuse him becoming angered when I told him I was not interested in ‘going back to his ship’.  I’ve often wondered why people think becoming angry will make anyone change their mind; it’s a bit silly, really. I’m even less likely to go back to someone’s ship if they start shouting at and insulting me after an initial refusal.

Evidently, it’s surprising to others to hear a Jedi speak in a manner that is anything but neutral and somewhat bored.

Regardless of my duty, Ilum is cold, and I don’t want to be there.

Of course, I will go about my assigned tasks on the planet without question and will succeed as I typically do, but I certainly don’t have to pretend that I’m elated to be there.

Occasionally, I forget that other people expect that “proper Jedi” are somehow on an emotional level with droids.  It does entertain me to a degree, but, really, I don’t have the time to give the same correction over and over to everyone who makes that silly statement.

At least I haven’t been asked to dance (or worse, stars, the nerve of some people) recently.

That aside, my shift in focus has been coming along better than I could have hoped and I’m finding that my decades of—I don’t even want to call it fear, it was so ridiculous—regardless, it was unfounded, and I am still capable of mending.

It has had an odd side effect of leaving me feel more energetic somehow. That makes sense, though: Complacency and stagnation tend to wear on the body and mind after awhile.

Lately, I’ve been readjusting a few things in my life. Most of them are nothing substantial; rearranging the ship, cleaning out the cargo hold (Not to mention spending some time crafting crystals with a large box of small ones I’d apparently forgotten!) cleaning things I’ve been putting off cleaning, touching up some of my more faded tattoos. The ones around the eyes and at the tips of my lekku are always the worst. It’s good meditation practice, if nothing else.

I came to realize, at some point during all of that, that I’ve been in the same, largely unchanging routine for several decades now. That’s not necessarily a bad thing on the surface, but it came to me as I was working on a batch of crystals that I’ve inadvertently allowed a part of me to stagnate due to fear.

Not a silly thing such as fear of death or anything of that nature, it was something that I can now recall stemmed from my training as an Initiate and a Padawan. Destruction is a last resort, death of someone else is a last resort, indulging those too frequently would lead to a darker path if one was not exceptionally careful. That stuck with me, I thought, out of a desire to be helpful in a way that didn’t bring about manifestations of the Force that one might consider ‘harmful’ or destructive.

Perhaps, for a Padawan, that is a wise stance to take. Err on the side of caution and all of that, but I am no longer a Padawan. I haven’t been a Padawan for almost a quarter of a century. At some point being too cautious can be as detremental as being too headstrong and reckless, after all.

All that aside, I went back to Tython and began studying again; the looks I got from some of the Initiates—I don’t think they quite understood what I was doing or why, but did not want to bother a Master to ask. That is a pity, really, curiousity isn’t always a bad thing. Well, that, and nobody wants to be the vaguely unsettling old man in the library.

I studied the things I’d only glossed over as a student. It was easier now to put them into practice, of course, and I didn’t find myself nearly as apprehensive about their use in practice as I’d been about it in my mind.

Still, I find myself unsure as to whether it’s a wise move to shift focus from mending and repairing to—no, no, that’s simply ridiculous. I’m still fully capable of mending wounds, this is just an expansion of the skills I already possessed in terms of Force use.

That will all pass as I keep working at it and become more comfortable with some of the more destructive uses of the Force, I suppose.

I could blame that awful little Sith and the conversations we had while I held him up in the air until he calmed himself down enough to at least act like a rational person again. It might actually feel good to blame him, though that encounter was my fault; I really must not bait them so much.

Admittedly, I’ve been avoiding Ehlial for a bit. Thankfully,  he’s been busy, but the last thing that poor kid needs is to see his Master in a—I’m not even sure what it is. State of transition? No, no, that sounds ridiculous, nothing is transitioning, I am simply dealing with a long standing, silly little fear that’d I’d either buried or forgotten.  At my age and, at my rank, it’s just a bit ridiculous to still be so afraid of the dark, in a manner of speaking.

These are the sorts of times when I do wish my Master had not died during the Sacking of Coruscant.

And it’s thoughts like that that tell me I need to go and still my mind through meditation.

Or, I suppose, if I were more like what seems to be passing for Padawans these days, it would be a prompt to go to Nar Shaddaa, get blitzed out of my mind, and end up either dancing naked somewhere or wake up on the ship of someone I don’t know or remember.

Meditation it is.

My lekku are killing me.

Not literally, of course; they just feel horribly bruised and the Force can only heal so much at one time.

Elihu tends to grab them when he gets nervous or tired, and when he’s nervous he occasionally twists them or pulls on them rather hard. If it is a reaction that he’s going for, he doesn’t get it beyond a, “That hurts, please don’t do it.”

To his credit, he does stop if that’s the case, but, really, who tries to braid and tie off lekku?

Elihu decided that he wanted to go and try to find Sanderson.

On Nar Shaddaa.

We went with stipulations: He was not allowed to take weapons, not even a training sword, no alcohol, no spice, and he had to stay near me the entire time, mainly because I didn’t much want to try and chase that kid all over the Promenade.

Of course, the most obvious place to start was the Slippery Slopes. Elihu seemed to know a few of the Sith there, which isn’t surprising. The woman was just—irritating, but then, I suppose she was trying to get under my skin. The other man was decent enough conversation, despite Elihu trying to convince him to punch  me in the face for reasons unknown.

Over at one of the side bars, a Sith and Jedi couple (evidently) were going on and on and ON about how they ‘needed to be more careful’ and ‘keep their relationship secret’ because nobody would ever approve. Seemed a bit dense of them to be discussing that loudly in a cantina of mixed company.  I had thought about pointing that out, but decided it wouldn’t be worth the hassle; it seemed like they were not-so-subtly angling for attention anyway.

At one point, a group of Mandalorians came in to the cantina as well. Loud, obnoxious, drinking, but, really, that’s to be expected in a cantina. Elihu seemed to think they were talking about me when one of them started going on about someone in the room being a ‘flaming obvious homosexual’.  I suppose they’re allowed to think what they wish; I had, and still have, no interest in associating with drunk Mandalorians, even in neutral space.

The first Sith woman Elihu questioned about Sanderson ended up taking four credits from Elihu to ‘distract me’ so he could run off. Her method of distraction was to lick her finger and stick it in my ear—not so much distracting as it was unhygeinic. Regardless, I knew Elihu planned on running off when she did that, as he’d verbatim said so.  The kid didn’t run far, just out to the entryway, and tried hiding behind some Sith.

The Sith in question, at least, had a decent sense of humor about it. Mid-conversation there, a Darth who apparently knew Elihu (and the Sith to whom we were speaking; she called him Master) showed up. That—did not end well. Elihu darted behind me and started YANKING on my lekku repeating over and over that we had to leave immediately. I assume it was on account of the newly arrived Darth, even though he didn’t say a word to Elihu.

On the plus side, I suppose I don’t need to worry about Elihu trying to go to Nar Shaddaa on his own; he seemed properly terrified by that Darth.

I doubt it even registered to the group of Sith in the entryway that I was a Jedi. I’m certain that I appeared to be more of a harried nursemaid.

I fully stand by the statement I made to a small group of young Jedi in the cantina: If I had hair, it would likely be turning white or falling out in clumps. Possibly both. 

It’s not a complaint, however; it’s never a good thing to become complacent, and the fact that Ehlial is so—not easy, but so innately skilled with anything he’s set to task, it’s made me a bit lazy, I think.

That said, I plan to spend my day resting and meditating.

I find myself worrying about Ehlial more than I ought to; some of the people he associates with, while not inherently dangerous on the surface, could prove problematic if I am not careful to provide my padawan with continuing guidance.

That, of course, will require that I somehow manage to be granted authorization to leave Ilum on a more permanent basis.

No matter, I’ll meditate on that later.

Ehlial accompanied me on what was supposed to be  a small, relatively routine, sort of outing. It, unfortunately, turned violent; a rather large, angry Wookiee took issue with us and attacked. I had hoped that the first time Ehlial had to see me in ‘combat’ would be under more controlled circumstances and not in actual combat, but we can’t always get what we want, can we?

He told me that he was impressed with how calm and collected I was and, though that is quite a compliment, I reminded him to make certain that he didn’t allow it to become a focal point, especially since he specializes more in lightsaber combat. One rarely appears calm when using a pair of lightsabers, even if one is inwardly calm. It’s rare that I have to move much in combat. To those not used to seeing a Jedi rely primarily on the Force over a lightsaber, it does appear as though I’m hardly moving; it’s not nearly the first time someone has commented that they find me a calming, serene presence on the field.

My hope is that, with continued training, Ehlial will become skilled to the point that he will have the same effect on those around him, even if he does have a pair of lightsabers out.

That aside, the Rakghoul epidemic appears to be spreading; I keep vaccinations on hand but, as I cannot simply abandon my work on Ilum, I feel that I am not being as useful as would otherwise be possible.

For as much as I may tire of being asked if I am or was a slave, dancer, ‘entertainer’, or what have you, it never quite reaches the level of mild annoyance that hearing, “Jedi are emotionless droids” manages to hit.

I understand from where the former comes. I am, after all, Twi’lek, and it is most common to see others of my kind in positions of, well, slavery, dancing, ‘entertaining’, or something otherwise borderline criminal.
I know this and accept this, and am not offended by the misconceptions or assumptions of others, though I would think that the robes and lightsaber would give them a bit of a hint.

Still, I cannot fault them for making a presumption that is, more often than not, true of Twi’lek.

To a degree, I understand how those outside the Order might get the mistaken impression that Jedi are “emotionless”. Many people, whether they’re aware of it or not, make a good portion of their decisions based on emotion, which is fickle, and can be dangerous. Jedi—it’s inaccurate to say that we do not, we are people, after all, and prone to having missteps now and again, but we do try to remove personal emotion from the equation in terms of decision making.
Many times, poor choices are made, as the cliche goes, ‘in the heat of the moment’; to put that another way, poor choices tend to be made based on emotion, and not logical, rational thought. 

Emotional attachments, which everyone has to some degree (Jedi or not), can also be a dangerous influence on decision making, which is why we’re meant to keep them from forming in the first place.
It allows to make a decision based on logic and rationality. In that sense, I suppose a droid comparison is apt, however it does not mean that we are emotionless or void of feeling. 

That, I’ve always believed, is impossible to do completely. There will always be some level of attachment to those with whom one works closely. Masters are frequently attached, at least to the degree of being protective of, their own Padawan. The reverse is often true. 
I’ve often thought that that level of attachment has been overlooked or disregarded as it’s entirely impossible to do away with when one is working with sentient beings over droids—and even then, I’ve seen droids with modules installed that allow them some level of attachment and loyalty to their fellow droids.
In that sort of case, it seems to be more a matter of controlling the level of control that attachment is able to exert over one’s self than anything else. 

When I hear Initiates or, worse, Padwans or even those who have been granted the title of Jedi speak about how they feel Jedi are emotionless, droids, ‘dead’, and things of that nature, I will admit that it does sting; my first, base reaction, is to correct them rather harshly. Fortunately, I am more than capable of not reacting in such an inappropriate manner, and either gently correct the misconception or simply let it slide.

We are people.
We do have emotions, we simply strive to keep them in check so they don’t overrun our lives and decision making processes. 

Lately, Ehlial has reminded me of how difficult I found my own training.

That is, perhaps, a bit of an overstatement as, looking back, I can’t say it was actually difficult. I suppose that view comes from having started training as a young child whereas Ehlial was a bit older. Regardless, Ehlial isn’t quite yet seventeen, and I can still clearly recall everything seeming not only difficult but much more—intense—than it actually was, looking back.

It’s not his physical abilities or abilities with the Force that concern me, it’s more that he’s had so little experience outside of his own upbringing and off of Tython; to that end, I arranged for a particularly—obnoxious—Twi’lek to accompany him when I cannot.

Ixo’diz is harmless, at least to me and to Ehlial, but has a talent for getting under one’s skin.
He’s been doing a decent job of pushing Ehlial’s patience to its limit. So far, he hasn’t gone past that limit, but he’s come close. He’s also reported back to me that Ehlial has been getting better and better at dealing with things that happen that may go against the Code.

And there are a lot of them.

Shooting an unarmed, bested through fair combat, man who said he’d surrender in the face comes to mind.

When I first heard of the incident, I have to admit to being taken aback (at least momentarily). However, the justification given, by Ixo’diz of course, did make sense in terms of how he thinks. There were two people who contracted the job: One was a local person of some note, and her orders were execution.

The other was a Republic military official who requested, but did not order, an arrest.

In his mind, the contract was made with the noble, and her stipulation for successful completion of the contract was an execution of the man in question, not an arrest.

While I certainly do not agree with Ixo’diz’s rationale, I am also aware that he is not part of the Order and is not bound to its rules. The incident was, as I’d originally planned, an excellent opportunity for Ehlial to learn first hand what “There is no chaos, there is harmony.” actually means. The situation was, as I understand, quite chaotic, and my padawan kept his mind clear and did not act or react based on the base emotional response that Ixo’diz’s actions initially caused.

Ixo’diz mentioned to me that his ‘aura’ was gray, according to Ehlial. 
I cannot say for certain that it’s true, as I don’t see the way a Miraluka sees, though based on Ixo’diz’s actions, I would strongly suspect that it’s accurate.
That Twi’lek’s behavior surprises me more often than not.