Balun Dashiell
Dashiell Retrofit™
"Same old protocol, just conceal your presence and you should be fine. We could check out the carnival. I haven't been to many of those. Have fun. Hopefully win some prizes. Get something to eat, some drinks - I'm pretty sure they'd have something strong.
Then maybe, if you're up for it, we could go dance."
Balun Dashiell had spent more time among the Sith than most Lightsiders would dare. He had visited the dark world of Jutrand twice, alongside Aris Noble, even setting foot inside the foreboding Sith Academy together—a feat few Jedi would ever risk. His shared encounters with the Sith, especially those alongside his close friend Nouqai Veil , only added to his unconventional path. His first relationship, with Cordelia Dimitte of House Marr, had also given him invaluable insight into maintaining anonymity among the Sith, a skill that allowed him to move quietly and undetected in their circles.
Balun's actions, to those strictly adhering to the Jedi Code, were more than enough to brand him a rogue—if not fallen—Jedi. And yet, he carried this label with an air of pride. He wasn't one to pick a fight without a solid reason, nor did he judge others unless absolutely necessary. His mastery of Altus Sopor had become second nature, allowing him to suppress his presence in the Force until he appeared as a mere Non-Force User. This ability helped him avoid drawing attention due to his Lightside affiliation, especially since he refused the title of Jedi, preferring to walk the line of neutrality. This stance was all the more important as he moved into the professional world, co-founding Dashiell Retrofit™, a venture that demanded careful balance in his dealings.
With a playful smirk, Balun entertained the thought of something far lighter: "You know what? The Carnival sounds awesome. I've never been to one, and I could certainly go for a drink." The prospect of alcohol was a rare indulgence for him—something he hadn't enjoyed in a while. In fact, most of his past drinking binges had been back on Maldra IV, away from prying eyes, where he could acquire liquor from soldiers more easily than suppliers. Now that he had recently turned eighteen, he could partake with a bit more freedom, and the idea of cutting loose at the Carnival felt like a perfect escape.