Mother of Pearl
Shortly after her promotion to Knight, Joza began to move away from the purist ideals of the Jedi and dabbled in to her Zeltron nature. When she’d first arrived on Sullust as a fresh-faced albeit incredibly nervous and homesick Padawan, she’d done everything possible to suppress her old ways. Not that she’d ever fully indulged in them in her adolescence on Zeltros, but she’d come of age in the midst of her apprenticeship. Now that she’d grown into her abilities as a Jedi and a Zeltron, Joza had a newfound freedom, partially out from under the watchful eye of her Master and the other Jedi.
But she hadn’t seen the Bith in a while, as he’d taken off for The Republic soon after knighting her. Similarly, she hadn’t see Jericho or Krux Mullarus in a while—two Silver Jedi she’d looked up to since her early days, and in one case, long before then. As far as she was concerned, everyone she considered a Master or teacher of sorts and held a bond with was out of reach. And so, she regressed. Keeping her own powerful emotions in check became more difficult—though she was facing off against more powerful decisions and opponents, Joza could not yet recognize this. She figured it was a failure on her behalf, and was partially correct.
Sitting on the floor of her Coruscant flat, Joza stared at the holocron on the floor in front of her. She’d taken a job at Daska Voss’ club as a full time dancer, and for once in her life was finally able to afford a place of her own. It was small, but then again so was the tiny apartment that she’d shared with her mother while growing up.
To her, the holocron looked like something far too ancient and proper to be in her grasp. She wasn’t even a Jedi anymore, not in her eyes. Just a force wielding exotic dancer who shimmied around on stage in bright costumes to earn her credits. In a small way, she was okay with that. It was familiar. But there was a reason she’d gone after Streen’s holocron, much more than his affinity for altering the environment. She’d heard that the Jedi Master had natural empath abilities much like her own, only stronger to the point where he could feel the emotions of those around him so intensely. Surely a Jedi Master would have had to undergo strict mentalist training to ensure that he was able to remain unaffected? Joza wanted to know how he managed that.
Inhaling sharply, Joza’s lids fell closed as she reached out for the holocron in the force. After a few minutes of sinking into a rather nice quasi-meditative state, the device began to click and whir, slowly expanding until the elderly form of Streen appeared before her.
But she hadn’t seen the Bith in a while, as he’d taken off for The Republic soon after knighting her. Similarly, she hadn’t see Jericho or Krux Mullarus in a while—two Silver Jedi she’d looked up to since her early days, and in one case, long before then. As far as she was concerned, everyone she considered a Master or teacher of sorts and held a bond with was out of reach. And so, she regressed. Keeping her own powerful emotions in check became more difficult—though she was facing off against more powerful decisions and opponents, Joza could not yet recognize this. She figured it was a failure on her behalf, and was partially correct.
Sitting on the floor of her Coruscant flat, Joza stared at the holocron on the floor in front of her. She’d taken a job at Daska Voss’ club as a full time dancer, and for once in her life was finally able to afford a place of her own. It was small, but then again so was the tiny apartment that she’d shared with her mother while growing up.
To her, the holocron looked like something far too ancient and proper to be in her grasp. She wasn’t even a Jedi anymore, not in her eyes. Just a force wielding exotic dancer who shimmied around on stage in bright costumes to earn her credits. In a small way, she was okay with that. It was familiar. But there was a reason she’d gone after Streen’s holocron, much more than his affinity for altering the environment. She’d heard that the Jedi Master had natural empath abilities much like her own, only stronger to the point where he could feel the emotions of those around him so intensely. Surely a Jedi Master would have had to undergo strict mentalist training to ensure that he was able to remain unaffected? Joza wanted to know how he managed that.
Inhaling sharply, Joza’s lids fell closed as she reached out for the holocron in the force. After a few minutes of sinking into a rather nice quasi-meditative state, the device began to click and whir, slowly expanding until the elderly form of Streen appeared before her.
“Greetings, Jedi. I am Streen.”