Independent Original Character +10 years development and experience Hello there! I’m Col, and this is my blog for Rush, a character that I’ve been developing for over 10 years now. Primarily set during The Clone Wars, but also covering all the way up to Return of the Jedi, and slightly beyond.
Y'know what? Order 66 has made its way back into my mind and has been absolute brainrot. I'm back I guess. Like this for a starter or plotting?
𝙰𝙷𝚂𝙾𝙺𝙰 𝙱𝙴𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙳. “Thanks.” The Jedi pressed humility, but there was nothing wrong with acknowledging how hard you worked to get where you were, right? She earned this. To hear as much from her friend warmed her from the inside out.
“His name’s Skywalker. I spent all last night reading up on him and the five-oh-first,” she went on. Of course, she had heard of him before - the holonet called him the Hero with No Fear. And the more she saw, the more it seemed to suit him. He could hold off an entire battalion of battle droids single handedly. Ashoka had watched the grainy footage of his lightsaber batting away bolts with ease, and imagined herself beside him.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what was Master Ti like when you first met her…?”
Rush stopped for a moment. It was clear that she had to dig deep into her memory banks to unearth her early interactions with Master Ti. While now they were like mother and daughter, it wasn't always the case. In truth, things had been awkward at the start. Shaak Ti had lost her two previous Padawans- in rather horrific ways too, if the stories had any validity. Rush had never pressed the issue with her Master, but was frightfully aware of it in the early days, fearing she would meet a similar fate to her predecessors. The Clone Wars gave her pause for thought at the renewed possibility of that. "Honestly? It was.. weird. Like, you hear so much about these senior Jedi, then they're actually nothing like the stories or rumours at all. I think the only part that weirded me out about being under Master Ti was just the whole... story with her last two Padawans."
"𝚁𝚄𝚂𝙷! 𝚁𝚄𝚂𝙷! 𝙶𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃!" Ahsoka didn’t give her the chance to answer as she raced to her friend's side, teeth flashing in a wide grin. “I spoke to the council. They’re finally giving me a master!”
Which would officially make her a Padawan.
It was a long time coming. A few of her creche mates had already been chosen. Ahsoka watched them go, feeling a little twinge of envy each time. She was ready – had been ready. But the war interrupted the natural flow of things in the Temple. There was no choosing ceremony anymore, no opportunities to show off her skill; instead the council made appointments based on their knowledge of students and teachers. She wasn’t yet sure if this was an improvement.
“I’m leaving tomorrow to meet him on Christophsis,” she said, in a voice pitched upwards by excitement. She couldn’t wait.
The excitement in her voice cut through the air like a knife, piercing the tense air of the Temple hall as the energetic togruta bounced her way to her friend's side. It wasn't quite the news Rush was expecting, but definitely delivered with the level of enthusiasm she had come to expect from Ahsoka. It drew a soft smile from the human as she let her younger friend continue excitedly. "What? Really? That's amazing! Go you!" In truth, Rush wasn't exactly as excited for her friend as she should have been, but as the pain in her hands twinged, the relatively fresh memories of Geonosis rang in her head. Did she really want to see her close friend- younger than her, be thrown into war so soon? Did Ahsoka really know what she was getting herself into? She wanted to be happy for her friend, be supportive and all, but the concern still hung heavy over there conversation. Looming in the background of Rush's voice like some distant dark presence. "You've worked hard to get this far. I'm proud of you."
In order to spread some more Jedi positivity, I have put together this fun ask game 💚💙💜💛🤍 Remember you must tell the person you’re asking which Jedi you want to them to answer these questions for. Have fun and May the Force be with you! I can’t wait to see what you guys come up with ☺️
1.) How did they find their kyber crystal?
2.) Why did they build their lightsaber hilt the way they did?
3.) Why do they dress the way they do?
4.) What do you they love to do in their spare time?
5.) Their favorite thing about being a Jedi?
6.) If they have a Padawan, why did they choose that Padawan?
7.) What do they have in their room?
8.) How did they meet their Master?
9.) Their favorite memory with their Master?
10.) Their favorite memory with their Padawan if they have one?
11.) What do they excel at?
12.) Favorite kind of missions?
13.) Do they love to teach and if so what do they love to teach?
14.) How do they like to meditate?
15.) What were they like as a child in their crèche?
16.) Who are their best friends and how did they come to meet them?
17.) Do they have any romantic interests and if so whom?
18.) Have they ever gotten intimate with another Jedi and if so whom (remember Jedi are not celibate, they just can’t be attached)
19.) What do they love to do with their friends?
20.) Have they ever struggled with the Dark Side and if so how did they overcome it?
21.) Their greatest challenge
22.) What is their ultimate goal as a Jedi?
23.) If they went on vacation, where would they go and what would they do?
24.) What legacy would they like to leave behind?
25.) If they were Knighted/Became A Master, what was the process like for them?
26.) Have they ever visited their homeworld?
27.) What are their feelings on their birth culture?
28.) Their favorite planets to visit?
29.) Their least favorite planets to visit?
30.) Their most embarrassing moment?
31.) A Jedi they look up to the most?
32.) Their thoughts on flying?
33.) If they were able to survive Order 66, how would they live?
34.) Their favorite foods
35.) Their drink of choice
36.) Their guilty pleasure
37.) If they weren’t a Jedi, what would they do?
38.) Their favorite place in the Jedi Temple?
39.) If they were to enter an ancient Temple, what would they see? What is their worst fear?
40.) How do they cope with grief?
41.) Are they more of a droid person or a critter person?
42.) What’s something they’ll never forget?
43.) If they could talk to any deceased Jedi who would it be and why?
44.) Any special talents?
45.) How were they brought to the Temple to become a Jedi?
46.) Your favorite headcanon about them.
47.) Their best quote.
48.) A crack headcanon about them.
49.) Their greatest moment
50.) Something in canon about them you reject.
STAR WARS: HOLONET PROMOTIONAL IMAGE #002
Rush Darkburst (@worldwearyjedi)
In the cold expanse of an unkind galaxy Rush Darkburst, once a Jedi and a war hero, now treads the path of a bounty hunter as she strives to evade the merciless clutches of a ruthless Empire. Having renounced her former identity, she traverses the hyperspace lanes under a string of aliases, leaving nothing but whispers in her wake. When an unexpected encounter on Coruscant reunites her with a former friend in the form of Holonet News' Deena Tharen, Rush is forced to confront a spectre of the past she'd thought she had all but forgotten...
She couldn't help but notice Rush's attempt to brush aside her crimson bangs, the subtle pose, and the laughter that followed. It brought a small smile to Deena's face, a hint of nostalgia mixing with the present moment. The Jedi Order, the Clone Wars, the hopes and dreams that had been shattered by the rise of the Empire. It felt like a lifetime ago, and yet the memories still lingered, bittersweet.
"Lara Tamsen," Deena repeated, with a nod of acceptance, her voice enviably smooth and completely natural as she instantly committed the alias to memory, a skill garnered through the years of working with news-sources who by request or by necessity asked for their true identity to remain anonymous. Even so, it never hurt to build an additional layer of deception for any unwelcome listening ears, to truly live her cover. "Huh," She noted after a moment's pause, "Tamsen? Don't tell me you actually got married to that laserbrain? Oh stars, you're so predictable! I knew you'd go off the rails without me. I knew it! Let me guess, you went and bought that run-down freighter from that dodgy Toydarian too, didn't you? Unbelievable."
She shook her head in mock offense. "I can't, I just can't with you sometimes, Lara. Ugh. If we don't get some Caf inside me I'm gonna have a full-on reactor meltdown." She turned on heels, and nodded down the walkway. "Come on, I know just the place."
Married? Me? Hah. Not likely. It took a whole second for Rush to register exactly what Deena was attempting. She fixed her with a quizzical look- one eyebrow raised above the rest, and a shift of her weight from one leg to the other. What was she on about? Then it clicked. Establishing a fake story, just in case anyone was listening- and on Coruscant, that was always a possibility. Especially with the shadow of the ISB looming over everything. "Heh, you know me too well." Rush had never been the best at following, especially when someone else was writing a script for her. The usual approach of maximum confidence generally worked pretty well. Believe the lie yourself, and they will too. However, it seemed Deena had a different idea in mind. Not quite the direction usually taken, but if it worked... The smile returned as her mind took on the new backstory the reporter had fabricated for her. At least Deena was having fun with it. It was nice to see her smile. A smile that, somehow, hadn't aged a day in almost a decade. Then again, one could say the same about Rush- which she would be very flattered by. If anyone dared comment. "Well, if you insist, lead the way, my old friend!"
"Cut the act." Deena retorted, anything but enamoured. The tram station was located almost in the shadow of the ISB Central Office, it was always swarming with intelligence officers, both on and off duty. It was no place to have any kind of conversation, much less one that would could be flagged as subversive.
She tried to maintain her composure, but her mind was racing with the implications of their unexpected encounter. Aiding and abetting a fugitive, even unknowingly, was now a Class One offence. Whilst it wasn't the first time she had a risked her life in her such a way, it was the first time she had done so on the spur of a moment, and she was all too aware of how especially vulnerable that made her. "You think you can just stroll in here, acting like you're invincible? Well, you're not. None of us are."
Deena paused, her words hanging in the air with a curtness that belied the depth of loss from which they had been drawn. She stole a glance at the entrance of the alcove, assessing the movements of the pedestrian traffic, absent of the stiffened gaits which implied the nearby presence of Imperial observers.
She leaned against the alcove wall, studying Rush intently. The crimson red hair, a fire that burned brightly against the backdrop of a galaxy consumed by darkness, the freckled face, and the weary yet determined eyes. Despite the years that had passed, an undeniable spark of attraction flared in the pit of her stomach. She took a deep breath, her anger momentarily subsiding.
"It's good to see you." Deena relented, careful not to say aloud Rush's name, but unable to completely suppress the smile growing on her face. "But, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to have this conversation somewhere a little less claustrophobic."
The grin faltered ever so slightly as Rush realised the charm wasn't as disarming as she thought. Deena was pissed. Rightly so though. She'd just found a long-thought-dead friend standing in a tram station, staring blankly at a very confusing time-table, surrounded by Imperials who'd gladly hang her where she stood if they knew her true identity. So yeah, the rage was understandable. At least it was coming from a place of care. This time.Invincible? Huh. That word takes on a different meaning for someone who's come back from death's door. Does it loose value? Or does it increase? Rush was still yet to figure it out. Her time in limbo, laying bloodied on the floor of the Jedi Temple hadn't exactly helped, but after what seemed like a lifetime of fighting and, somehow, surviving, her perception of her mortality had grown fairly twisted. It's a good thing Deena's question was rhetorical, because Rush wasn't sure she had an answer.
The grin softened to a smile. A more genuine, warm one. One belonging to someone who was genuinely happy to meet an old face. The earlier fear had faded, satisfied that the reporter wasn't about to throw her under the holo-tram, Rush's entire body relaxed ever so slightly, no longer ready to strike first should Deena try anything. Years operating alone had left her very distrustful of others. Things like Order 66 will give a person trust issues, apparently. The studying one-over given wasn't unnoticed by the former Jedi. Deena was most definitely trying to visually catch up on her old friend's new look- which of course, meant Rush had to pose ever so subtly. Hand on hip, weight on one leg, always accentuates the hips- though they did a good job of accentuating themselves these days with the extra padding that had made itself at home since she'd slowed down some from her wartime days. A quick attempt to brush some crimson bangs out of her face- only for it to fail and have more fall in the way drew small huff of laughter from the bounty hunter. If one thing hadn't changed, it was certainly her voluminous, unnecessarily long mane. Except now a new color! Always wanted to try.
Nodding in agreeance to the new location, she realised Deena didn't know her new identity, Rush decided it might be best to quickly introduce her alias. The Imps liked a good, cohesive story when they asked for one, so Deena being up to speed would only help more should they be stopped for any reason on the way to this 'less claustrophobic' space. I mean, the alcove was kinda cosy- very 'secret romance'. "It's good to see you too. It's Lara, by the way. Lara Tamsen."
Life since the rise of the Empire had been... weird.
A new life- a clean slate, sort of. Where no one knows who you are, and everyone you knew is gone. Your legal alias is declared an enemy of the state, and also dead. So now the false identity is the only identity. Twenty years into life, and you’re given a new beginning in a vastly different Galaxy. Not many could say they’d had that opportunity. It was something that Rush had to continually adjust to, like an item of clothing that just wouldn’t sit right, it was something she’d never be comfortable with.
Still, not all that bad. You're alive, right?
Well, sort of. The first few years were... Rough. But its been a decade since those days. Things are better now. The confidence is back, the wounds are somewhat healed (at least the physical), the waistline is back to an acceptable measurement, and the income problem is solved. Bounty hunting wasn’t exactly where Rush saw her life going, but it sure was better than long-haul freighter piloting- and besides, it was a better use of her skills, and the pay was far better.
All in all, not too bad.
Except for the part where returning to the seat of power was required for a particularly high-paying target. Coruscant was the last place Rush wanted to go- especially after her escape from the ecumenopolis eleven years prior, but the job required it, and the potential payday was significant enough for the former Jedi to pass up. Turns out you can set a bounty on anyone in this Galaxy, including Imperial officials- whom of which Rush was more than happy to hunt. One could say it was personal, but she’d deny it strongly.
Nonetheless, there she stood, trying to figure out the right connecting tram. Sometimes, the mundane tasks were the most complicated parts of the job. Like looking normal, and not standing out in a crowd. Kinda hard with crimson red hair. So that was a definite failure on Rush’s behalf. Not that she cared.
Over the last several years, Rush had taken great care to construct the narrative that she now lived. Lara Tamsen, war orphan turned freighter pilot, turned bounty hunter. No one really questioned it too much, people like her were surprisingly common after the end of the Clone Wars. Displaced, forgotten, ignored. Not important to the Empire or its grand design, and not worth the paperwork for any Stormtrooper. All thanks to Dex and his brilliantly flawless false IDs.
Speaking of Stormtroopers, there sure were quite a few at this station. Rush could feel them moving about. The clattering of their gleaming plastoid armor as they moved communicating their presence more than any signature in the Force ever could, Rush barely needed to keep an eye on the bucketheads as they moved about with an unnecessary level of pomp and showmanship.
The one she didn’t see though, was the woman who had miraculously appeared at her side with a strong grip around her bicep. Deena Tharen, Miss Holonet News herself. Now there’s someone who had aged well- and sold out to the Empire for the sake of-
No, not now. Be angry later. What’s she doing here? Why is she here?
A spy? No, surely not.
Not that she’d admit it, but behind the carefully constructed facade of cool, calm swagger, a small amount of fear began brewing with in the former Jedi. Was Deena about to throw her before the nearest Stormtrooper patrol and claim the reward for turning in a fugitive? Surely not. Right?
Regardless, Rush followed Deena’s instructions, concerned that noncompliance would result in having to shoot many Stormtroopers- and having to abandon a rather well-paying hunt. Thankfully it didn’t come to that. Deena was as deft as she was graceful, steering them both through the crowd, avoiding Imperial patrols, and sidestepping any suspicious gazes with such practiced ease, it genuinely impressed the war veteran.
The sharp pull into the alcove however, did catch Rush off-guard ever so slightly, but she quickly recovered, cocky smirk plastering itself across her freckled face as she looked upon a rather frustrated Deena with tired eyes, half glazed as memories ran wild. She genuinely believed everyone who knew her was gone- apparently she was wrong.
Not the first time that’s happened.
“Deena. It’s so nice to see you too.”
The air of false confidence lingered in every word. Rush was working overtime to hide the whirlwind of thoughts behind her cocky persona. All she could do was hope and pray that the reporter didn’t pick up on it- but then again, Deena was historically good at reading people.
“I’m only here for a little business, then I’ll be gone again- And yes, death wishes are my thing. I thought you knew this?”
@worldwearyjedi
Row upon row of perfectly polished transparisteel towers rose up to meet the overcast skyline, each glistening in bespoke rhythm to the perpetually energetic lights of Coruscant’s speeder traffic. The occasional warbled-whine of an overhead LAAT/i the only reminder of the war that raged worlds away on the outer frontiers of the galaxy.
Booted heels clicked out a beat on the durasteel walkway as the two women strode side-by-side through the night air, the drizzle of the rainy season pattering harmlessly against the pleated Corellian leather of Deena’s jacket. The muffled chords of an eclectic mix of Heavy Isotope and B'ssa nuuvu music, a staple of the Uscru Entertainment District, reached a crescendo with each neon-fronted establishment they strolled past.
“Relax.” Deena soothed, offering her companion a smile worthy of Holozine cover. “You look like a freighter pilot on collision course with a passing meteor.”
Deena met the first of the steps up to the Vos Gesal Hotel with a bound that appeared as effortless as it was graceful… Moments later the night air and its accompanying precipitation receded as the foyer of the Gesal opened out above them, its high ceiling seemingly reaching out for the very stars that adorned it. The Vos Gesal was the oldest and most prestigious of the district’s many accommodations. It regularly played host to Senators, Chancellors, Judiciaries and Holostars from all across the galaxy. And it was the only establishment of which Deena was aware that offered all the luxury and safety of the Upper City with the impenetrable anonymity and blanket discretion of the underworld.
Her credits chits clacked onto the counter, and an immaculately dressed Selkath concierge carefully counted each of the plasti-coated tokens of currency into a webbed-hand. “Miss?”
“Antilles.” Deena replied casually. It was almost impossible that the concierge didn’t know who she was. Especially, as she noticed with a grimace, her own image flickering on one of the many Holoscreens hidden behind the entry-desk, apparently tuned into the HoloNet News.
However, the exchange unfolded as professionally as she had expected, and she was handed a suite-key with no further questions flapping across the Selkath’s gills. “Do enjoy your stay.” …
“ Oh, um, really? ” Ya’ll she is bright red.
“Look, I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind more than a few times.”
In front of him is a drink that he isn’t really interested in drinking, though it makes him look less suspicious than sitting in a cantina with nothing. He doesn’t like alcohol, the way it tastes, the way it makes the Force fuzzy and blurred in his mind, and he definitely hasn’t taken a liking to what passes for booze on Tatooine, but he sips at it anyway while she processes his question. She’s staring and part of him wants to tell her, crossly in fact, that she ought to not do that, lest she draw attention to either of them. They’re meant to be two old friends conversing casually, not meeting for the first time since the genocide of their people. But he doesn’t. She can’t help it. It’s understandable.
He’s been dead for so long, he forgets the effect it has when people see him alive. And so far, they’re blending quite nicely. It’s not Mos Espa, which helps. He’s already too familiar there. Not entirely proud of it? He supposes it would be a difficult profession to be proud of, though there were bounty hunters with rules and codes. He’d seen them, met them. Not everyone was out to make a buck at any cost. He’d like to assume a former Jedi might have morals or something like them. He glances around, and upon seeing no one interested in them, he chuckles dryly.
“I’ve been carving meat, actually. It’s a good job, until the carcass is cleaned, and then I have to find something else. It gives me enough for a meal a day and a little extra if I save and it’s much less work, I’d imagine, than bounty hunting. I’m still quite hunted, you see. I don’t think I could get away with high profile work such as yours. The result of my status during the Clone Wars, I suppose.”
A small smile crept onto her freckled face. The great General Obi-Wan Kenobi, out in some dustbowl backwater planet, living the simple life, processing meat. Somewhat... Contented with it all. Hm. They should all be so lucky. Still, he was right. Everyone knew of him thanks to the Republic’s media machine during the war. Skywalker was the poster boy, but Kenobi was always there with him, as much as he didn’t like to admit it. Rush on the other hand? Well, sure, she’d been interviewed once or twice, but due to the nature of her unit, never really garnered headlines like The Negotiator sitting across from her. “You were quite the household name back in the day.” She glanced sideways, quickly studying the dimly lit room for any potential issues, but thankfully found none. No other bounty hunters that she knew- the competition, no Imperials, nothing. Just patrons of all kinds enjoying the hovel of a Cantina they had happened upon. Perfect. The way it should be. The bounty hunter relaxed slightly with this information, sighing lightly as she leaned back into the booth. Several strands of crimson hair fell into her face as she moved, of which she promptly readjusted back to their rightful place as she shifted her gaze back to Kenobi. “I wouldn’t exactly call bounty hunting ‘high profile’, but you’re right about it being rather... Involved. But, it’s the right level of excitement for me I suppose.” In truth, she had tried her hand at some of the ‘simple life’ that Kenobi had. The first few years after Order 66, Rush had taken up long-haul freight. Just herself and the stars from point A, to point B. It made enough money to get by, but sitting for hours on end with nothing to do took it’s toll on her waistline, and her sanity. So after five years of freighting, a switch-up was desperately needed. After all, once a soldier, always a soldier. “I guess I forgot how to switch off after the war started.”
“So, you’re a bounty hunter now.” He wants to ask a specific question, but it would be quite rude. There is no good way to ask anyone if they’d turned on their own kind and begun hunting down their fellow jedi for sport, now was there? But while the Inquisition tended to make up for the most ambitious of jedi hunters, he knew there were others who profited from the violence and the grief. He didn’t usually hang around cantinas but it was better than inviting her back to his home, which was a little while away across the dune sea. Normally, he’d have just ignored a familiar face, but this one…she looked so different from the girl, the woman he remembered. And she was hiding in plain sight. She had some semblance of a life, it seemed. More than he had. They were both hiding in plain sight and yet between the two of them, he was certain hiding is not what he’d call her line of work. Perhaps she had word or news. Not that he should care, not that he should hope, but he’d take a little good news about now. They’d killed someone only last week for refusing to give information they likely didn’t even have about a jedi that had probably never even been on planet. He felt the loss as if he had known them, keenly. The empire never failed to turn his mood miserable. He glances at her, his expression somber. He should tell her how good it is to see her alive. How proud he is that she’s stayed that way. But all he can do is imagine her corpse, hanging above the streets, another gruesome warning. She won’t be able to stay. Two jedi, even ones who don’t use the force, is too many for one city, perhaps even one planet.
The shock had yet to wear off. Normally, Rush would be able to shake it quite quickly, but seeing General Obi-Wan Kenobi alive after all this time was just a little beyond the level of shock she was used to. It had been almost a decade since Order 66 had come down. A lifetime ago, it seemed. The whole galaxy had changed, and seeing someone from all those years ago sitting across the table from her only brought about a tumultuous mixture of emotions to surface, playing like some foreign dance across the former knight’s scarred, freckled face. A quick glance into Kenobi’s tired, pale-blue eyes, and in an instant, Rush was back at the Jedi Temple, receiving a dining recommendation from Master Kenobi. A tasteful little spot in Coco Town by the name of Dex’s Diner. That was the last time Rush saw Obi-Wan before everything turned to chaos. Nearly ten years catching up in an instant just by seeing the weary war hero before her. She had many questions. So many, that any attempt to articulate one would only be side-tracked and trampled by the several other questions the initial spawned, but ultimately all culminated to the one singular question: What happened that night? Even after all of these years, Rush still had yet to form a complete answer that wasn't just Imperial propaganda. She still had no idea how exactly her life fell apart. Her gaze dropped to her liquor, realising that she had been staring at Kenobi’s sand-worn face for the better part of a minute, stunned with disbelief. Frankly she wasn’t sure if she was hallucinating or not. But then he spoke, breaking the silence with his somber observation. So, you’re a bounty hunter now. Not wanting to let the silence hang any longer than it already had, Rush was quick to respond. Quiet, polite, and perhaps just a little bit exhausted. “Yeah. I am. Not entirely proud of it, but it pays the bills. How about you?”
“ Oh, good, because I stole one the other day. ” It was delicious, and the first thing that wasn’t a nutrition shake that she’d had in weeks. Better to ask forgiveness than permission. Although, she wasn’t sure she should be taking advice from Tarp, he wasn’t exactly the sane type.
A small hum escaped the Nubian Jedi. A hum that could only be read as a mock indicator of closure. “That checks out. I wondered where it went. Did you like it?” There wasn’t a single hint of negativity in her voice as she spoke. She truly didn’t mind that Lyra, of all people, had requisitioned an item from her stash of sweets. If only they knew about the black market she was running for her men during deployment. Jedi requisition orders basically never got denied, so Rush was more than capable of getting the boys what they wanted- for a price. Nothing saying she couldn’t do the same for Lyra.
Lyra shrugged, “ I’ve thought about it, ” she said. “ Going back, seeing how things have changed. How much I’ve changed. But, I don’t know anymore. ”
Going back may just make things worse in the long run. She was never going to be the Jedi her parents thought she was going to become. Have they seen her on the news holos? Fighting droids with her master? Did they even recognize her? Part of her didn’t want to know.
Unease and uncertainty radiated off of Lyra’s signature. It bordered on palpable. Frankly, Rush didn’t blame the younger Jedi. She, too, held concerns for how her biological parents would receive her if she returned home to Naboo as she was now. “I honestly don’t think they’d recognise me. Besides- I think it’d be too much of a culture shock for them. After all, the Naboo usually gravitate towards peace, and we all know I’m about the fight.”
khenobi:
@worldwearyjedi
“ Look out to the future, but it tells you nothing. So take another breath. ”
A single eye poked open as the brow above it quirked upwards. The smirk spread across the younger Jedi’s face, disrupting her otherwise peaceful meditative pose. “I think you’ve just about summarised what it’s like to try and meditate these days, General.”
