Square One

[Joza Perl]

Voss had been home for a long time. The Sanctum had been good to her. Encouraging, uplifting even. Yet she’d turned her back on them, preferring to spend her time in Sith beds and doing little to help others. It was easier than she’d realized, to be seduced in a number of ways by the dark side. It certainly had its draws, and she would not deny that. Her descent had begun as a Padawan—despite her best efforts, Joza had given in to her more racially-fueled desires and frolicked in a ritual pool within a Voss temple, accompanied by an irresistible priestess who would later turn out to be a Sith Inquisitor.

From then on, it was as if the floodgates had opened, her own hedonistic tendencies wearing down the dam of willpower that stood in its way. She’d lashed out at those who tried to help her, going so far as to even try and take lives. The dark side had its hold on her, but she was beginning to tire of it. It was too confusing, too conflicting. While she did not seek power, she found that it left her horribly unfulfilled.

Enough was enough. Was she ready to push back against the rushing waters of the dark side that threatened to drown her? Probably not, but she was afraid of being submerged and losing everything she had. The Silvers had stormed Balmorra and secured her route to freedom, the aftermath of which became messy, but she’d escaped nonetheless. Perhaps if they were merciful, they could help in her rehabilitation—or blight her from existence.

The sun had just dipped beyond the horizon, giving way to an absolutely gorgeous sunset. It was enough to give Joza pause as she stopped in her tracks, lowering the hood from her head to take it in. She’d touched down on Voss moments ago, swathed in billowing black robes. No Sith insignia though—it was moreso aimed to be conservative and concealing rather than intimidating.

The Zeltron took the time to inhale deeply, swelling her lungs with the tranquility that Voss was known for. Its soothing effect worked even now, though there was a prickle of unfamiliarity in her chest. Did she even belong here anymore? She felt as if she were the enemy, and had half a mind to turn around and leave the planet. No. You can do this. Joza continued forward, heading towards the temple with carefully placed, anxious steps.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

The masked Rangers stood down and one walked through the hangar and outside to where the ship had touched down, piloted by Joza Perl. The girl who had drowned in the sea of darkness and right now was on the edge of succumbing to it, but was treading water as best she could.

Connor had seen her as an ally with Jericho repelling the mutated rakghouls, and then first hand in battle on Ruusan, and he also been involved with her rescue from the Sith. Right now, he didn’t trust her. He didn’t even know her, yet she had returned.

For what? He didn’t know. He was in the right place to be informed and so took it upon himself to intercept with the armed Rangers standing inside the lobby of the temple just in case, and also around her ship.

The Rogue Master had his sleeves rolled up on his navy blue tunic, cowl now discarded, and the proud Skywalker hilt hung by his side as it always did. Joza was in no rush coming towards the place she once called home, and she was certainly dressed in a way that Connor once did, and admittedly he rather missed that black attire; the colour that gave little clue to one’s emotion and was an embodiment of the shadows he had lived in.

Perhaps one day he would return there for he didn’t feel very…colourful at present. But right now, Joza was his first concern.

He walked across the dry grounds, past the daily activity of Jedi alike, and held his hand out, palm forward, to the Zeltron. The sunset was another magnificent sight that framed them on the ground.

”Joza Perl. Welcome back,” he said, stopping. ”What do you hope to gain by doing so?”

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Her senses had been sharpened since she broke atmosphere, nervously anticipating any sort of confrontation. And the moment she felt [member="Connor Harrison"]’s presence, her neck prickled in nervous goosebumps. Controlling her hostility and volatile nature had been easier within the passing weeks, thanks in part due to a surprise appearance of her old Master. The Bith Knight had disappeared soon after knighting her, and somehow managed to smooth over her aggression in the moment. He’d been patient and calm with her, and thankfully she was distracted from her anger long enough to reach a certain level of calm. It had been a nice day.

But it didn’t last. On Zeltros, emotions such a depression and anger were often shunned, preferably smothered in shot glasses and lovemaking. Joza had never learned how to deal with them properly, leading to outbursts—attacking her friend Sorel Crieff and trying to kill the man she loved were among the worst. Slowly, she went from boiling to simmering. Control was key, but she wasn’t positive on how to move forward.

“Master Harrison,” Her voice cracked, dry and she paused to take a moment to lick her lips, clearing her throat as she did so. She appraised the man before her for a brief moment before one of her hands moved towards her waist in slow, deliberate movements. One saber hilt, then the other would be plucked from within her robes, all the while she kept her eyes locked with his. Holding them out to him in offering, she spoke once more.

“Take them from me.”

She didn’t trust herself. It was also a sign that she had not come with intent for conflict, though a trained Force sensitive certainly didn’t need a lightsaber to do some damage. It was symbolic of her attempt at repentance, or so she’d hoped it seemed.

Regardless of whether or not he would take her weapons, the young Zeltron would inhale deeply, followed by a low exhale. “I wish to regain my self-control.” A pause, and her lips parted as if she was going to say something else. Working the thought out in her head, she would go on. “I wish to regain myself from the dark side.” As much as she could, anyhow. It wouldn’t be the same, she figured, but she wanted to be rooted in the light.

“If I am no longer welcome within the Sanctum, then I ask you to slay me.”

 

[Connor Harrison]

This was a position he hadn’t been in for a while, but one he relished. A broken Jedi coming to seek redemption, or salvation, from the darkness. It was a rough journey to make, but it was an empowering one and one that would hopefully show the victim what they were made of. It had worked with Conner.

Thankfully he didn’t know Joza well so had no empathic nature to her, no pang of sorrow or mercy for her which was something he didn’t overtly do anyway. It didn’t help those seeking aid to be comforted or molly-coddled when they needed nothing but blunt truths. If they didn’t like it, he wouldn’t waste time over them and they could go to find another Master.

Looking at the Zeltron, only moving his eyes, Connor watched her fight to speak the first words of admitting failure to herself, and then disarm both hilts, offering them to him. They were well crafted and he spotted the signs that they had been through a lot, like their owner.

As she spoke to him, she took two steps forward and one step back with the willingness to die. Trouble is, right now, it wouldn’t phase Connor much if he was the one to administer the killing blow; maybe it would be for her own good in the long run. There were times he wished he had been given that chance years before he fell into the dark place he still wasn’t free from.

”So be it, Joza.”

Dropping one of her hilts to the dry floor, he span the other in his hand and aimed the emitter at her chest, just below the windpipe and placed his left hand on her shoulder, looking into those irises to see if he could see the girl behind the shell that had been cracked.

”You will feel nothing and your journey will be over. Your failure to yourself will be forgotten.”

His fingers moved over the hilt as it turned slightly, and he gave her the split-second chance to see he was willing to slay her as she requested and to choose; did she really want to end her days at the hands of the Dark, or did she have the embers inside still burning enough to reclaim the Light?

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Emerald irieses flared in honest surprise as she felt the cool metal brush against the thin yet concealing fabric of her robes. There’d been no hesitation in his movements until now. He could have ignited the beam, sending the blade searing through her chest and leaving her to fade into darkness. But something in him—his eyes, or perhaps his very being?—told her that he would do it. He was giving her a chance to make her choice, but she didn’t process it as such.

​

"And what? You wished you were dead because you felt bad for yourself? You were trapped and accepted that you were going to die."​

It would be the words of [member="Haytham Kaze"] that rang through her head, loud enough that it was almost as if the Sith were speaking in her ear himself. After Balmorra, he’d tried to raise her up from that dizzying low point, but she’d been too confused and volatile to be willing to listen. At one point she had expressed her own thoughts of death and suicide, having felt forever lost in the clutches of Darth Ax’no. During the time Joza was under his care, she thought him cold and cruel for speaking to her the way he did. Slowly she began to understand, dissecting their heated conversation in her time alone. He hadn’t been trying to hurt her. He was trying to heal her.

And then on Ruusan, she’d lost herself completely, between trying to kill her own lover and anyone who attacked him. Perhaps she should be more thankful for the interruption that was their Netherworld field trip.

At once, her right wrist flew upwards from beneath them, swatting the body of the hilt sharply from his hand—or at least, she attempted to. There would be a distinctive metallic clink as the hilt met the loosely clothed prosthesis that was her cybernetic arm. She hadn’t bothered to cover it in synthflesh ever since the previous batch had been ripped off. Her particular shade of pink was a bit difficult to find, so she’d gone without it.

“I am grateful for your mercy.” Joza had become obsessed with wallowing in her own guilt and shame, so much that she often redacted any steps she managed to take forward. But the pity party was over. She’d been lucky that the Masters present on Ruusan hadn’t ended her then and there, she’d been lucky that there were those around her who still cared. Jericho, Dune, Leina, Solan, maybe even Haytham. Or Vanitas, or whatever he called himself these days. Her father, even though they were both busy with their own lives. He’d crashed a ship into a Sith garrison alone on her behalf. Her mother, missing her only child and consistently worried sick.

She couldn’t change what happened in the past, but damn if she couldn’t learn from it and try to pave a brighter future. Maybe there was something about staring the prospect of a very real death in the face that had given her new reason to survive, struggle and endure. Her eyes, still green, would burn brightly into his own.

“I do not appreciate being lied to, however.” The Zeltron fought the instinctual urge to step back, holding her ground. “It won’t be that simple. It can’t be. My failure would follow me in death, I’m sure of it. That’s not the sort of legacy I’m going to leave behind.”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

As Joza made her move to stop the blade from being emitted, which he would never have done, he was pleased she made a choice to face her trouble rather than take the easy way out. However he didn’t smile or grin or embrace her, pat her shoulders and give her warm milk and biscuits. He simply looked at her and nodded, noting her synthetic limb, and the resolve seeping into her voice.

Resolve and arrogance.

”I don’t lie. I didn’t mean forgotten by the Order or the galaxy you betrayed; I meant forgotten by yourself as you’d be dead and you would not be granted to right to wallow in your pity on the other side. We’d pick up the pieces of the broken path you walked.”

He span the hilt and extended it to her.

”This is yours, and right now I have faith that you will not use them against me. If you do, you will be lost forever and you will be struck down. That, I promise you.”

It had been a long, long time since he had spoken words so harsh and true. But underneath it all, he was here to help the Knight. He indicated with his head for her to follow him.

”I will help you find your way back, Joza, if that is what you want, but do not waste my time and do not lie to yourself. If you want to embrace the Light, you need to prove it to me. I, for one, understand the draw of the darkness and how much of a tool it can be in battling the enemy, but I will always know which side of the light I am on. If you can do that; if you can control your emotion to the point where nothing can crack your shell, then you will find redemption.”

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Every other Jedi she had met with during her descent into the dark side had been tolerant and soft, urging her back to the light with gentle nudges and words. By comparison, Connor was rigid and no-nonsense. His words gnawed at her pride, giving way to a flutter of irritation in her chest. But it was simply that; a flutter that faded into nothingness as she exhaled and reminded herself of why she was here. A part of her did appreciate his blunt sincerity. In her nativity, she’d expected to be either welcome back with a Jedi’s patience, or killed on sight—hence why she had truly believed that the Rogue Master would have impaled her with her own blade. The galaxy hadn’t been pulling it's punches with the young Zeltron lately.

“I misunderstood.” A short downward tilt of her head accompanied her words, admitting her misinterpretation. She paused, an apology dying in her throat as she thought it would sound too insincere right now. “I don’t want to wallow in pity, anyhow. I’m done with it.” The words were mumbled, moreso to herself than to Master Harrison.

Wordlessly, she retrieved her hilt and swiftly clipped it back onto her belt. “Understood.” She idly brushed her pink fingers against the hilt before letting her organic arm drop to the side. Joza didn’t like confessing that she was cracked or even broken, but perhaps it was time to push past her pride in favor of rebuilding herself. Surprisingly, Harrison’s blunt attitude was actually giving her some drive.

In following him, she found that she felt rather awkward. Clasping her hands behind her back in an effort for find a more comfortable stance, she peered over to him as thin red brows arched, rising above her bangs. “You can use it without losing yourself?” Her voice held a note of disbelief, as if she didn’t think that such a thing was possible. Then again, the Silvers did accept all types, even those who dabbled in the dark side. Using it responsibly was something new to her. “I’ve tried before,” Pausing to clear her throat, she wondered how to phrase the next part about finding redemption. “But I always seem to slip back to square one. I’m not sure what to do now, or how to even prove that I do want to serve in the Light.”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Joza followed, even after her muttering and mumbling. Connor matched her physical walk with hands behind his back and walked slowly, casually and devoid of urgency despite a few looks cast to the Rogue Master and the black robed Zeltron.

He would avoid taking her to the gardens for her own sake of feeling eyes were on her. He would instead walk towards and around the makeshift training grounds; small arenas and obstacles set up to test those in combat and agility up, down and across various scenarios. It was quieter over there, so he would at least grant her a bit of peace as she found her way back.

”Remember Ruusan, and that tear that opened up to the Netherworld? If I hadn’t have used the Force Lightning, that would never have happened, but in the same respect, I was out to destroy the Sith Lord trying to kill me. I wasn’t trying to detain him, I was trying to kill him. I will not risk my life in trying to negotiate with someone trying to kill me, and in that sense destroy a shard of Light.”

He looked across to her, her head still down.

”This is where we are today. Not centuries ago, but here now. If the Force can be used as a tool as well as a weapon, then it should be. If you use that power in a vindictive, callous and murderous way then you know you are lost. If you use it to defend, protect and preserve the Light, then you are on the right path.”

Connor turned and started walking backwards slowly so he could afford Joza his full attention and get her to look at him.

”You must be honest to yourself first on where you want to be. If you want to obtain power and to operate without restraint, I can’t help you. But if you want to control your ability and develop it, if you want to control your emotion and if you want to fight to protect those who can’t protect themselves, I will help you.”

He then turned back where they could go into the magnificent temple, or stay outside.

”Convince me right now with your choice and I will show you where to go, whichever choice you make.”

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Gradually her steps became more sure-footed, but only by a little. Voss was familiar ground, and the longer she was here, the more she was able to drink in the planet’s tranquil atmosphere. It was something she had great appreciation for after beginning her training on Sullust. The Alliance had been good to her, but the combination of homesickness, exposure to battle and a hellish atmosphere had been a bit too much for her. Blinking, it hit her just how long ago it had been. Nearly a decade since she’d embarked on the Jedi path. Or was it over that by now? Sometimes days, weeks, even months seemed to meld together.

Her gaze lifted to Connor as he recounted the events on Ruusan. She recalled how she’d asked for his help, and how he’d gone up against Orcus. Too caught up in her own affairs, she had only caught glimpses of their battle. Her head tilted to the side, pondering his words on negotiation with the Sith.

As he turned to walk backwards, her head raised slowly to meet his gaze. It was easier for her to appear more solid when focusing on his words, turning them over in her mind as she questioned her own motives and resolve. Is this what she truly wanted? There were times where she was convinced that only darkness would pave the path to what she wanted. But it had only brought needless pain and suffering, to her and to others.

“When I first began my apprenticeship, I’d done so aimlessly. I didn’t know what I wanted beyond adventure and a lifestyle change. What I got, however, was something far more drastic.” She paused to clasp her robes a bit closer to her as a breeze rolled through the grounds. The sun was sinking beyond the horizon, and the air had a bit of a chill in it, though it hadn’t actually reached through her cloak. “The galaxy is embroiled in war, and innocents are having their lives ripped apart by it. But I was more concerned with myself, chasing desires and burning bridges.” Typical wild child behavior, something she’d grown honestly tired of, if her eyes ringed with fatigue were anything to go by. “It was my own carelessness that led to the invasion on Balmorra. I’d found myself enslaved to a Sith Inquisitor who’d treated me as more of a…personal plaything than a Jedi captive. Later on, I was enslaved by to a Hutt as well.”

A pause, and she seemed to cut off her words quickly. No further details were needed, and she would not let herself dwell on such troubling thoughts lest they get ahold of her and cause her to get all teary. This was not the time for that, and she hadn’t come here to seek pity. Instead, she continued to build her thoughts, voice strengthening with heavy resolve as she went. “I’ve felt the cold hand of slavery twice. The second time, I’d managed to take a few unfortunate souls with me during my escape. In this, I’ve found my calling. No one deserves to live in such a degrading way. Innocent lives are not for sale, nor are they cannon fodder.” Her teeth ground together and a surge of anger spread across her heart, receding slowly like the crash of an ocean wave against a rock. Exhaling lowly, she tilted her chin upwards to face him fully.

“I don’t like the way I’ve been living my life, and I don't know if I can be forgiven. I’ve been a reckless burden to those around me. I want to gain control, to master my emotions. Above all, I want to bear the pain that innocents cannot take.” Her green eyes burned with a renewed intensity, cybernetic hand clenching and unclenching before it relaxed at her side. Her voice firm, she stared him directly in the eyes. “I can only do that while rooted in the Light.”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor listened to her talk, the best thing he could do right now. As Joza spoke, he took her around to a large wooden viewing platform, outside of an external arena for sports and training and combat games. He took a seat, propping his legs on the wooden benches before him and looked over the now empty arena as the sunset coloured the sky above them.

It was quiet, and he noticed only a couple of people doing the same as they; sat across in the benches reading or simply talking.

”You’ve had it hard, Joza. No denying that. I understand where you’re coming from because I have been there too. If there’s proof that one can find their way back to stability and belonging, it’s me. I’ve done terrible things in my past whilst trying to control both Light and Dark, and I shouldn’t be here now really. But I am. I have been forgiven, and I am doing what I can do to put things right.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking far too relaxed, and continued.

”You can’t control both sides of the Force. I know that now. You can understand them, and appreciate them, but you can’t control them. Hence, I know my place is with the Light. Those who claim they can harvest both are only fooling themselves and heading to a grizzly end.”

Connor now looked at the troubled Zeltron.

”You need to forgive yourself which is the hardest part, and then know when to stop questioning your forgiveness. Make peace with yourself, and then leave it. That’s it. Done. Don’t keep questioning why or how or who – just find yourself, and you can then move forward.”

Before she could answer the easy response, he talked again.

”I warn you now; you can’t be the martyr for those who suffer in the galaxy. Slaves, soldiers, soldiers…any and all, people suffer. We can’t save and liberate everyone. If you want to shoulder the pain and suffering all these people face and try to be a saviour, then you will fail, and you will be consumed by hate not for the situation, but for yourself for feeling you have failed them. That’s when we start to lose the good in a person – when they begin to hate themselves.”

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza took a seat across from Connor, taking a few moments to exhale and enjoy the scenery. It was hard to be brooding against the backdrop of a beautiful sunset on such a naturally tranquil planet. That was why she’d come to Voss in the first place as a young Padawan. Sort of. There Sanctum had other draws for her then, and she hadn’t seen either one of them in a while.

Nearly everything else faded into the background as she took the time to focus on Connor’s words. The Zeltron esteemed those who had attained Master rank within the Sanctum, as it was known to be no easy task. Many Jedi would neither survive long enough nor have the skills to do so.

Placing her hands on the bench at either side of her thighs, Joza stared down at her feet in thought. She kicked them back and forth lightly, the motion appearing somewhat childlike as the intensity began to drain from her eyes. It wasn’t worth it right now, she’d realized, to keep feeding the burning flames of rage and passion in her heart. She’d come here to learn how to tame that fire. “I still aim to help those that I can. I mean, I suppose that’s always a part of what a Jedi should do, but I’ve found a new drive to do so.” For a moment, she wondered if it would be alright to mention her ulterior motives for Heartbeat House—a dance studio that harbored escaped slaves and helped support them until they were ready to integrate into galactic society. While she didn’t imagine that Connor would do any harm, she was protective of her little operation and barely knew the man.

Her head bobbed back and forth in a slow nod. In setting such a large goal for herself, she would ultimately fail. “I understand. I can’t ever hope to dismantle slavery on my own, but if I can make a difference in just one life, it would be worth it. But it’s easy for me to say that. I had a place to go after, I had people that helped me.” She paused, face softening to appear a bit more earnest.

“A lot of the men and women who manage to escape a life in chains don’t have a family to go back to, or never had one in the first place. If my experiences have taught me anything, it’s that life with freedom can be difficult, too. Perhaps I could help others adjust and figure out how to live life after bondage.” Shaking her head suddenly, the Knight drew in a deep breath before exhaling slowly to get herself back on track. “Sorry, a bit off topic.” She crossed her legs, idly cracking her knuckles in her lap as she straightened out her back. “You are right. I’ve been slowly coming to terms with myself, but that came to a screeching halt during Ruusan. I will not deny that I almost gave in and joined the Triumvirate. Perhaps I would have, had you, Jericho and Solan not shown up.” It was a rough subject, but something that she needed to work through, anyhow.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Arching his fingers, Connor sat up and listened intently as Joza started to speak her mind a little more openly, saying what she felt rather than what she felt he wanted to hear. She had a good heart, but a clouded mind.

”Well first you could always find a way to help those with nowhere to go. I know Healers in the Sanctum who set up missionary expeditions, help establish small settlements and camps for those who are victims of persecution or war. That makes a difference rather than brooding on the thought. You have the resources of the Silvers and our support at your disposal. Remember, you are still one of us and we will help you if you have an idea.”

Then, he laced his fingers and rested them on his knees.

”Regarding the Triumvirate. What would have been your reason to turn your back on us and join them. Would it be because you were backed into a corner and submitted so you would be spared, or was it truly a desire to join the Sith ranks against the Light, and if so - for what reason?”

She was clearly thinking hard.

”Be honest, as I will be with you. Trust me. This wont go further than here.”

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

The Healers, that’s right. They did that sort of thing, didn’t they? Joza was often too focused on the combat aspect of her training, too absorbed with trying to be bigger than she really was. The Zeltron had always been eager to prove herself, but perhaps it was time to try and contain herself. She gave a light nod in recognition of his words. “Thank you.” Her voice was honest, though it held a note of fatigue. But really, her stomach twisted with the next topic.

The hands at her sides clenched slightly, nails digging into the wood of the bench as she tried to organize her thoughts. How to explain this? It was complicated, really really complicated. “The man I fought, he and I are lovers.” She paused, pushing forth despite the clear hesitation in her eyes. She was wary of his response, but was also unsure what sort of unwanted feelings this subject would kick up. “Were lovers. Not anymore, I suppose. I’m not sure.” She shrugged, consciously pulling herself back to the task at hand before she rambled too far off track. “We met before I’d started training as a Jedi. I didn’t know he was a Sith until more recently.” Her eyes darkened, recalling the day she’d run into him on Cloud Nine. Her disloyalty to Haytham had only pushed him further into the dark side.

“Things went pretty sour between us after that, but we reconciled on a few occasions to enjoy each other’s company.” Should she have ended it? Joza didn’t know. On the surface, that was an easy “yes”. But no matter how many times the pair seemed to split, they’d always found their way back into each other’s arms. “Even knowing my affiliation, he’d never once tried to convince me to his side. When we were together it was like we weren’t Jedi and Sith, just…Joza and Haytham.” The Zeltron’s voice softened in realization, and she heaved a heavy, perhaps overly dramatic sigh. “Then on Ruusan, he and his Master, Darth Orcus tried to sway me to their side. I was upset, but I guess things couldn’t last as they were. Haytham…er, Vanitas was upset with me for questioning him. We fought, and then he shot me with the Hapan Gun of Command. He told me to give myself to the dark side, and so I did. But I was still angry. Moreso that he would do something like that to me, try to strip me of my will and force me to his side…”

Her lips twisted into a pout, and she tilted her head up and back, unwilling to look at the Rogue Master as she continued. “I tried to kill him in my rage, and anyone who intervened. Both the impromptu field trip to the Netherworld and Solan Charr kept me from going any further, so I suppose that I have them to thank.” Releasing her grip on the bench, one hand came up to rub beneath an eye—was her eyeliner leaking already?

“Would I have joined them to avoid death? I might have. But the biggest draw was that I could spend every day with the man that I love, maybe even get married and build a life together instead of sneaking around. What stopped me wasn’t just my anger. It was the thought that Orcus would somehow use me against him."

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor didn’t move as he listened to Joza open up even more like a wilting flower. He gently toyed with the beard on his chin, but stayed still and silent, listening and observing. Listening to her explanations and internal conflict that bled into the words, and observed the body language, refusal to look at him and the upset on the surface. It all meant she was afraid to admit her faults, but also meant she was struggling to let them go.

Such a minefield of emotion.

”Affairs of the heart. It’s what makes all men and women human, regardless of their position or allegiance.”

Connor began walking into the minefield, where Joza was standing.

”I do understand how you feel, Joza, I really do. I have borne the brunt of such pain myself, although it were not to a Sith, it was to a Jedi. To be blunt, I had started to give my heart to them, but in the course of duty they were taken from me, kidnapped, and returned once corrupted by Sith Poison. I tried to help her return to the light, but she had no faith left and no love in her heart for herself, let alone me, and she fled. I have not seen or heard from her in nearly a year.”

Chastity Lunelle would always haunt him both as a memory and also some way in the guise of her sister, Setzi, whom he too had not heard from since offering to help her as they met in Serenity Valley. He sighed, in understanding her plight.

”Once a Jedi and Sith come together, one will ultimately lose. No Jedi will be able to resist staying grounded when a Sith offers them the world at the expense of their free-will. No Sith will be able to surrender ultimate power for a life more grounded and serene. This determines, in all honesty, how strong you are as a person and where your faith lies.”

He held out both hands, like a scale.

”Do you have the strength to know where you are on the spectrum. I have brought Sith to the Light when I found that crack in their emotion, and they have found peace with it. Could you try to do the same, but know when you are defeated and walk away? Or do you want to sacrifice all you believe in and want to fight for, all to please someone who will do what they must to turn you?”

Seeing it was a touchy subject, he dropped his hands, trying to catch her eye.

”I know this is hard, Joza. I really do. More than anyone. And you’re right when you say your emotional state will be used against you. To twist your view that the Light is holding you back, that the Jedi don’t understand you. That’s all a lie to be honest. The Light just tries to understand and reason more than the Dark, who only deal in absolutes. If you make choices to please others and do it for easy ways out, then I fear you will be the one who ultimately loses.”

He paused.

”Where is Haytham now? Is he a threat to you?”

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Hearing that Connor had gone through something similar helped to make Joza feel a little more at ease. Though she knew it probably wasn’t true, she felt as if she were the only one who had to experience this sort of thing. Her eyes flickered, catching the drop of his hands from her periphery. Inhaling again and stifling a sniffle, the hesitant Zeltron lowered her head to level her gaze with him.

“I didn’t want it to end like this. We would fight often, but we couldn’t stay mad at eachother. We would occasionally speak of alignment and allegiance, but it was always met with compromise. He never tried to get me to turn, he never tried to convince me to join the Triumvirate. I guess things changed, though. We both did.” She paused, catching her lower lip with her upper row of teeth and gnawing at it softly for a few moments.

“He knew I was suffering. That day on Balmorra was the last time we were together before Ruusan, and we’d fought then too. What if he only tried to turn me because he thought it would be the best way to alleviate my pain?” Exhaling sharply, her eyes found their way down to her feet, brow furrowing. “But I can’t deny that felt more like he wanted to possess me than love me.” Right now, all she longed for were the gentle touches and words of her lover. Thoughts of him helped her to survive her servitude to the Hutt, thus she couldn’t deny how deep their bond ran. “I didn’t try to get him to turn to the light. He promised that the dark side wouldn’t get ahold of him, and I respected his choice. I wanted to believe that he wouldn’t become c—“ She paused, voice cracking and shuddering for a moment as her eyes began to glint a bit more with unshed tears. After taking a few moments to compose herself, Joza continued.

“Sorry.” Her tone was more even, though it still wavered in places. “I thought he wouldn’t become corrupted. But I see now how foolish it was to think that…” Trailing off, she looked back up to him. “I couldn’t do it. As much as I love him, giving in to him felt like I was losing my autonomy. Maybe he still does love me, but I…I just don’t think that love is a good enough excuse to do something like that. I’m afraid that my heart would break for good if I tied to bring him into the light. And now I can't help but look back at our time together, picking out the signs I should have recognized, going over the things I could have done to try and pull him out from under Sith influence.” In certain areas, the young Darth could be stubborn and steadfast, and it killed her to think that he cared more about his pursuits in the Triumvirate than her. But perhaps she’d put herself on a pedestal.

As she was prompted, Joza straightened her spine and smoothed out her slumping shoulders. “Haytham is gone. You’re taking about Darth Vanitas.” His chosen name tasted bitter in her mouth, but she focused on answering Connor instead of her anger. “He’s with the Triumvirate, most likely. Towards the end of the battle on Ruusan, he killed his Master, Darth Orcus. The one you and the Dark Jedi fought. I’m not sure if there’d been bad blood between them, or if that is simply how Sith operate.” She shrugged, her voice steadying at a more clinical analysis of the fight.

“At the moment? I don’t think so. But he dislikes the Sanctum so I wouldn’t rule Triumvirate retaliation out.” Her voice faded, and a thoughtful look spread over her face. “I doubt he wants anything to do with me. Even if he were here right now, he’d probably ignore me. But I could be wrong.” Her teeth ground together for a brief moment, recalling how cold he could be towards her when things got rocky between them. Her irritation quickly dropped into disappointment. “I’ve been wrong about quite a lot, it seems.”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

It sounded like talking it out loud was helping the troubled Zeltron, and Connor was fascinated with hearing her inner thoughts and feelings without interrupting. He rested his elbow on his knee, gently toying with his chin with his finger and thumb with a look in his eye that showed his attention was totally on her the whole time.

While he was no professional at psychology, he understood how the human mind and heart worked, and how they could be the worst thing you couldn’t part with. He nodded at all the right places, understanding her explanation of how she felt love, and loved in return, and also the incidents surrounding Ruusan and the Triumvirate.

She could be a key player in the Sanctum war against this growing Sith cell.

Still, it was time for hard truths and Connors blunt way of speaking direct to someone. If she hated him for it, or hit him, then she did but it would be no loss to Connor if part of it helped her grieve the loss of what she thought was real love and to find her way back.

"Darth Vanitas killed his Master. The Sith are hungry for power and control. Vanitas pledged to be loyal to his Master, but when the time came, he turned and killed him. What is stopping that from happening to you if you went to him, or had stayed. You could have been his lover, but if you questioned him or had to think outside of his way, what would stop him turning on you? The Sith don’t care for love. They love themselves, and they love the power and control they exert on others. Remember that."

He kept her gaze as long as possible.

"Also, Joza, remember that we may – and probably will – face the Triumvirate again if they try to retaliate in Silver territory. Vanitas will no doubt be there leading those in the place of the Master he murdered. What would you do were you to face him with your allies behind you and your enemies ahead, and the man you said you loved in front of you?"

She didn’t reply, so he pushed again.

"He would murder you in cold blood and tell you in your final moment it would free you. Would you not want to be free and alive, then stone cold dead and not having lived a true life? He will take your life in a heartbeat if you can’t subdue him or take his. It’s that simple Joza, I’m sorry. I wish it could be all nice and rosy, but it can’t and never will be."

He licked his bottom lip for a second and rubbed his hands slowly together.

"I know of two Sith who have turned to the Light, and they have denounced their Darth name, their Masters and their Sith Code. They have undergone psychological analysis, training and support from us to get them back into normal society and they are thriving. Darth Azurea and Darth Arcanix. Azurea’s name is Setzi Lunelle and should she return her, I think you would benefit talking to her also for she has been in a position akin to yours."

He paused a second as the warm wind blew over the two and the sunset waned.

"You may have been wrong before, but if you want to start being right about things, now is the time to start."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

“You could have been his lover, but if you questioned him or had to think outside of his way, what would stop him turning on you?”

Joza flinched visibly. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t had thoughts like that before—in fact, her tendency to overanalyze had brought her to prod Haytham with certain questions. Would you kill me if you had to? The first time his answer had been no, and he’d been a little upset that she’d questioned him like that. The second time, he still said no, but was unsure of what the future would bring. Whenever she raised concerns over their respective allegiance, he’d been confident that they could make things work. And they did, for a while. But it couldn’t last forever, and deep down Joza knew that—but she didn’t prepare for it.

She recalled the feel of the rough backhand against her face, and the look in Haytham’s golden corrupted gaze as he tore at her clothes and threw her to the ground. It was a memory she tried to smother many times, but couldn’t seem to forget. It was as if her subconscious was clinging to it, as reminder and a warning. He’d been so kind to her—gentle and concerned, but then sometimes he’d be cold and cruel. It was always rationalized as love on her end, but she’d felt what his anger could do.

“I know,” She muttered, voice and spirits low. Her metallic hand came around to grasp at her organic arm, squeezing as if her nails could bite into it. As the cybernetic had no nails, it simply served to pinch the pink skin while she spoke. It helped somehow, to give her something else to focus on. “I-I just want to think that he’s not like that. I can’t believe that he would ever kill me, but after what I did to him on Ruusan.” Drawing in a shuddering breath, the distraught Zeltron exhaled slowly to soothe the shake from her voice. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

His words were blunt to the point where he’d feel her anger spike, but it remained contained within her person as she fell back upon her Master’s teachings for the first time in a while. She hadn’t been the easiest teenager to deal with, and often became frustrated. The patient Bith had taught her to pick apart her own emotions and understand her triggers rather than give in to them. Perhaps she wasn’t ready to accept the fact that Haytham would cut her down if she stood in his way. But the thought of joining the Sith—especially those who masqueraded around as righteous—made her stomach twist and squirm with uncertainty and disgust.

As her feelings leveled out, she spoke again in a soft voice. “There was a time where I’d lost trust in him. I thought he’d earned it back, but I might’ve forced it because I wanted to feel safe around him again. Sometimes, I wasn't exactly fair with him either.”

At the mention of a certain Sith Lord turned Jedi Padawan’s name, Joza perked up a bit in surprise. “You know Setzi?” There was a name she hadn’t heard in a while. To be honest, she didn’t really know the pretty brunette very well, having met her through Mullarus. She spared a thought towards Krux who’d been a pretty big influence on her in her early days—and then her thoughts shifted to his former Sith apprentice, Abelain Narv’uk who’d allegedly slain him. “I haven’t seen her in a long time.” Continuing before her thoughts turned dark again, Joza released her arm from the cybernetic grip, the skin there having grown a little reddened. “I think I was the first Zeltron she’d ever met.” The corners of her lips upturned slightly in a small smile, recalling meeting both her and Mullarus during her first visit to the Voss temple. Not just that, but it was a brief reflection onto her old bumbling, anxious ways as a young Padawan.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

With a matter of fact sigh and a shift in his position on the wooden bench, Connor confirmed her doubt.

”He would kill you, Joza, make no mistake. You either submit to him and the Dark Side, or you are his enemy and he will cut you down. So you either die inside and continue living under the shroud of the Dark Side, or you find the strength to keep living as you are, repel his venom and stand for what is right. For what is honourable, and what is decent.”

He thought for a second, trying to explain how he felt Vanitas would be feeling. He didn’t know for sure, be he knew enough Sith to have a guess.

”It’s a slippery slope down, the route of the Sith, and once you’re on it it takes a greater person to resist it’s grasp and break away than it does to succumb to it. Your love may possibly be one of many tragedies that the balance of the Force splits, but you aren’t the first, and you sure won’t be the last, Joza. I guarantee it.”

And with that, he smiled a little and diverted the conversation to inject some hope and warmth to the Zeltron, hopefully a name and face from the past would help feel she wasn’t totally alone, and Connor wasn’t all doom and gloom.

”She’s away, right now,” he said, partly knowing she may not return, but hopeful she would, ”but she has managed to break away from the Sith. She too was involved with another as she tried to make the transition over, but I don’t know if their love was real or founded on honesty and truth. More founded on desperation to have somebody, to feel part of something. Maybe like yourself and Vanitas? I don’t know. I don’t mean to offend.”

Connor smiled again at her.

”She’s a good woman, I know that much inside and I’ll help her as much as I can, as I will help you. If she returns, reach out to her. I know she has a very level-headed mind and outlook that you could benefit from to know you’re not alone. You never will be here on Voss to be honest, Joza, if that is what you truly want.”

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza’s brow furrowed, unconvinced that Vanitas would kill her. He had vowed to protect her. But hadn’t he broken that promise once? He’d made up for it though, she was sure of it. Even during their fight on Ruusan, he had barely harmed her. She was sure he’d been holding back, but they’d barely gotten a few exchanges in before they were interrupted. If they had fought unhindered, would one of them have died? He had seemed confident in his ability, whereas Joza was distraught with his decisions and her own corruption.

“He’s not all bad. There’s good inside of him. I’ve seen it.” In the back of her mind, she knew that she was just trying to rationalize their volatile relationship. How she wished that they could go back to their teenage years, where the only thing they wanted was to be around eachother. “I’m not the easiest person to deal with. He tried his best in loving me. He really did.”

Joza didn’t know much about Setzi, only that she was Krux’s lover. Or had been. She hadn’t seen either of them in a long time, and had learned of Krux’s apparent death from his own former appretince. Abelain Narv’uk had claimed to slay his former Master, moments before he’d taken Joza’s hand. She flexed her bare cybernetic at the memory. Thankfully Nikias had picked up their distress signal.

Her face twisted into a sour look and she sent Connor a hard glare for a few moments—unbefitting of a Zeltron—before she shifted her gaze to the side in thought. “Maybe,” She ground out. “Whatever it was, it felt genuine. A part of me hates him for what he did, but I can’t fall out of love with him. With him or…the man he was. I don’t know.” She shook her head, sighing in irritation at her own scrambled thoughts. “You know, Zeltrons are supposed to love love. They’re--we're--obsessed with it. I grew up thinking that love and infatuation were the same thing, and I’m not going to lie and say that I haven’t questioned my relationship with Vanitas before, both to him and myself. Maybe I’m just chasing a high that I’m genetically predisposed to. Or maybe love isn’t supposed to be patient and kind all the time, maybe it leaves bruises and tears too.”

There were certainly more ramblings to be hand, but consciously stopped herself before she steeped in the negative emotions for too long. Zeltrons didn’t like being sad or depressed. They liked being positive and fun. But despite the vibrant pink skin, Joza was only half Zeltron.

Shifting her thoughts back to Setzi, Joza recalled what little she could about the Sith Lord turned Jedi Padawan. She’d always been pleasant in their brief meetings. “It would be good to talk to another person who knows what it’s like.” Her voice was low with a note of defeat, as if she were a child admitting she’d done something wrong. Straightening for a moment, her gaze firmed up and she looked back over to Connor. “I never got the chance to thank you and the rest of the Sanctum for Balmorra. Had you not shown up, I would likely be dead or in a One Sith torture chamber.” Drumming her fingers of her real hand on the bench beneath her, Joza’s head cocked to the side. “How did you know I was on Balmorra? I’d been suppressed in the Force and hadn’t managed to send a distress signal out either.”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

With a sly smile, Connor arched his fingers and rested his chin on them.

”We always know where our Jedi our, Joza. We have eyes and ears all over the place, and one just happened to have a lead on a certain Zeltron. And also a few other private matters that we had to deal with, but we got you. And that’s all that matters.”

Seeing her resolve, she certainly was trying her best, and at the end of the day that was all he could ask for. He rose, and slid opposite to sit beside her as a show of support.

”Look, I can say this and that, and you can question and debate that and this, but at the end of the day, you’re here now and that shows me you want to be here. I will help you through this, and there will be plenty to do for you to exercise your mind and body on Voss to get into a happier place. Hopefully Setzi will return, and if she does, make sure you see her.”

He looked out back towards the temple beside them, watching over the pair like a silent, monolithic guardian.

”I have a feeling you and he will cross paths again, either intentionally or not. And when that day comes, as I have faced in the past, only then will you know where not you’re your heart lies but also your loyalty. Loyalty to the Force you wish to defend, and loyalty to yourself and your own destiny.”

Reading between the lines, Connor was clearly stating there would be a choice she would have to choose between the Light or Dark. Jedi or Sith. Good or Evil.

It would be the making of her, or her undoing.

Either choice, Connor would be there to deal with the fallout.

”Trust in the Force, as a good friend once told me. It will help you find your way.”

There was no playful smile, no wise-crack or comforting arm around her shoulder. This was a testing and dangerous time, and Joza needed to know at least someone out there would be the rock she may need without pandering to her at this difficult time.

[member="Joza Perl"]