Whiskey for Two

[Joza Perl]

Joza’s lower lip caught between her teeth. Her hands rubbed back and forth along the tops of her thighs slowly, occasionally grabbing at the fabric that covered them. Her nerves had not abated entirely, but they were plateauing into a quasi-calm state now that the initial storm was over. All in all, things had turned out…better than she had expected. For now, at least. The next 8 months would certainly bring challenges of their own, and who knew what else after.

Now that the scolding was over, she found that Connor’s words were strangely calming. Maybe it’s because she esteemed him highly that it crushed her to disappoint him, but he was still here. He hadn’t kicked her out of the Order, and he’d even promised to help her. Don’t let anyone push you. You’re important. It’s your choice. Encouraging words like that had been rare, and she realized this suddenly. Typically the only praise she received had to do with her looks or her body—not that she didn’t appreciate them, but that wasn’t the focus of their conversation.

“No changing? Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She gave him that same tired smile, though her eyes did seem to brighten. And then they turned back to the wound beneath his eye for a moment, gaze flicking away after she realized she was staring. It was impolite, Joza wouldn’t want someone staring at the marks on her body like that.

Raising an arm, she wiped away the foundation and concealer on her left cheek to reveal a scar of her own. It ran diagonally down her cheek, its shape and texture telling of that of a saber burn. While it was not severe in appearance, time had allowed the light pink mark to flesh over a bit and smooth out. “I got this during my first battle with the Sith. A Trandoshan Acolyte burned me with his lightsaber during a lock. I don’t remember much of the fight, but I remember that vividly. And the part where I threw up.” She traced the burn with a finger idly, though the memory didn’t seem to worsen her mood. “Luckily I stopped getting sick in battle a while ago.” She laughed softly, almost humorlessly. No one was without their scars here.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor winced a little at the wound on her pretty face, and without thinking he laughed at her telling of the battle she obtained it in.

"Yikes. Well you surived to tell the tale, so who cares if you threw up. I'm sure I did once. And you shouldn't cover it. It's part of you. Made you who you are. Don't hide it, or anything about you from anyone."

He brought up his finger and traced her scar on the cheek, seeing how it had perfectly healed. His eye blinked, twitching at the psychological sensation of how it would feel touching his own sensitive flesh. With a smack of his lips, he turned his right arm over, revealing an equally perfectly healed scar that had swirls of broken skin in some pinkish work of art.

"Another one from Matsu Xiangu. My first."

With the same arm, he turned it over and flexed his knuckles, holding them up in the light for her to see the 4 pink marks.

"Force Lightning." He dropped his arm down. "We all have scars, but it makes us who we are. Don't be ashamed of them, or equally, who you have become. No need to be."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza’s skin tingled as his finger ghosted along her scar, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, her attention was soon drawn to the intricate markings on his wrist. She watched with interest, as if trying to figure out where the scar had come from.

“You two seem to have a thing for each other.” She spoke in jest, arching a brow. The Zeltron didn’t know if they had some sort of rivalry beforehand, but it made more sense now—he knew her on Kaas, he knew her on Ruusan, and it seems that he knew her before all of that. Pursing her lips in thought, it brought to mind a certain Sith she’d had a few run-ins with. Abelain Narv’uk had taken her hand, but they’d also been forced to work together against a common enemy on a different occasion.

She bit her lip again, briefly, when he raised his hand to show her the marks Force Lightning had left. Joza was fortunate to the point where she hadn’t felt the effects of it herself.

“I’m not,” She insisted, though her voice was soft as if she were thinking. “I’m not ashamed of the scar on my face or how it shaped me.” That part was true. Some of the other scars on her body? Those were a touchy subject.

The late Nikias had said the same thing about her facial scar, and she shook her head. “But I’ll cover as much as I please, Master Harrison.” Up went one of her eyebrows. It wasn’t as if she always hid it, but more often than not she had at least a layer of base over it to even out her skin tone. Still, her voice had not yet hardened on the touchy subject of her looks.

“That being said, my entire right arm is made of phrik after having part of it cut off by a Sith. Do I win?” She gave him a lopsided grin, implying that they were competing over their battle wounds. She held out said arm, flexing her fingers and admiring now smoothly the pink synthflesh moved with her cybernetic knuckles.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Moving back a little to check out her arm, Connor was clearly surprised and fascinated by the revelation. He angled his head to see the intricate synth skin that he hadn’t noticed all this time and cautiously touched her wrist, at first soft and then harder to feel past the flesh to cold, hard alloy below.

"Well I didn’t know that, that must have been awful to go through. But, please, I never insisted you do what you’re not comfortable with. You cover up what you wish. It’s your body, and it took me a while to adjust to things too, like you did, especially this," he pointed to his eye.

Next, he stood and turned to the side, and pulled up half of his vest to show the bare right of his torso and the scars he felt most uncomfortable with of all. It looked like an inverted brail pad – the skin dotted with indented scars like a bumpy road; tiny holes taken out of his side.
"Courtesy of Matsu too. I was dragged along a stone ground and they all embedded in my side. Had to have them picked out one by one. It was horrid and this is the one that I feel worse about…it just looks alien." He shuddered.

Before she could speak, he held up a finger and turned away from her and lifted the vest a little more. Across his back, a mountain range of scar tissue from burnt flesh fused together with a pale crimson hue.

"This was a Sith Lady, Darth Arcanix, who turned out to be Taeli Raaf, sister of Corvus if you remember her? Had a nice sheet blanket of Force Lightning across my back on Nar Shaddaa. Twice in the same day. That stung."

Connor lowered the vest after a while and turned back.

"Two broken Jedi it seems. A body decorated with pain from our past, but it’s that which makes us who we are today. Survivors."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza’s head tilted in curiosity as Connor rose, lifting part of his shirt to reveal an odd looking scar. She’d never seen so many small intents on a person’s flesh, and certainly not in a pattern like that. His description of how he’d received it made her wince visibly, and her fingers twitched with the want to touch it, but she paused in anything she was about to say or do as he held up a finger. Her eyes shifted upwards to the skin that had melted together, thick with scar tissue and she winced again. Force Lightning? Twice? Certainly it did more than sting.

“Those both sound ridiculously painful. I can’t imagine having stone fragments removed one by one like that…” She tried to envision it, but shuddered at the imagined sensation. Her organic hand would raise to brush against the tiny pockets along his right side, feeling the markings there for herself. It was a strange feeling, and she certainly hadn’t seen a scar like that before. Usually they came in the form of lacerations or burn marks, given their line of work. But she supposed that anything was possible.

Sharing their battle wounds was oddly humanizing, she realized. While Joza of course knew that Connor was human, it began to cement in her mind that he’d been though his fair share of difficult times, just as she and many other Jedi had. He wasn’t born into the way he was now—he was the culmination of his experiences. Suddenly, she didn’t feel like much of an outlier.

Her hand descended from his side to idly latch onto her own neck. “I met Corvus once, briefly for a group lesson as a Padawn.” It had been one of her first interactions with the Jedi, early on when she’d been a part of the Galactic Alliance. Corvus was holding a class on Soresu, but unfortunately disappeared shortly after. The only other time she’d heard the woman’s name was from a Sith named Vengeance, who was looking for her sister Melori. Her thumb brushed the base of her neck and she grimaced. Well, as long as they were sharing…

Brushing her hair over her right shoulder, Joza tilted her head to the side and pulled down her collar enough to reveal a design on the side of her neck. “This…is the brand of Kossak the Hutt.” She figured that she really didn’t need to elaborate, as the raised flesh spoke for itself. “It’s the one mark on my body that I can’t stand. I can usually cover it with my hair, or certain types of robes and shirts with a high collar, but it makes me feel…I don’t know, unsafe?” Realizing that she was speaking through gritted teeth, Joza willed herself to relax. “I’m technically an escaped slave, and that’s something that won’t ever go away. I don’t know if he’d ever send anyone after me, but it’s a reminder of the power that was exercised over me.”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

As the girl showed her branding, Connor squinted and leant into inspect it. It stuck out like a sore thumb; the marking of a slave girl that would be a permanent reminder of a past life. Of past mistakes. Of past pain. It wasn't something Joza needed.

A flock of birds called out over head as she spoke.

"Scars aren't just cause by fighting. They can be mental or emotional too. I understand." Connor moved her red hair away and traced the branding with his finger gently. "Corvus was my best fried at one time. We did a lot together. Battled Sith. Raided Sith tombs. Killed a Krayt Dragon. The lot." He lingered on the branding with his finger, before pulling it away and kneeling before her. Corvus was an emotional scar too. Maybe one day she would have the time to hear how he got it. Right now, she needed help.

"If you want, I'll burn it off. Take a blade to it. Destroy the branding, burn away the layer of skin. And in the second after I'll heal it faster to avoid it leaving a permannt mark. Well maybe a touch of pink, but you'd never know with your skin tone."

It was something he could do. Or try to do. If she was brave...or foolish...enough.

He knelt, waiting for her reaction.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza inhaled sharply as she felt Connor make contact with the brand. Her body was already stiff, having been so since she started dredging up painful memories. But she wouldn’t let her mind linger on them, just long enough to convey her feelings on the marking. She was beginning to tire emotionally.

“That sounds familiar.” Murmuring softly, Joza recalled the time she’d spent with Nikias. Though they came from different walks of life, the pair bonded quickly and became good friends, to the point where they treated each other as siblings. While the Zeltron had only met Corvus once and briefly, the Jedi Master struck her as a humble yet friendly person. Idly, her mind tried to imagine Connor interacting with that woman, despite knowing very little of Corvus.

At Connor’s offer, Joza slowly tilted her head back towards him. A look of disbelief crossed her face, but genuine contemplation settled in shortly after. Lightsaber wounds were no joke, and this would hurt regardless of how well it was controlled. Still, to allow someone to bring a blade to her neck like that nearly made her hair raise. But this was Connor—he’d only always been there to help, never hurt her. One of her hands twisted into the fabric of her pants and she bit her lip.

“Alright.” She exhaled quickly, not having realized she was holding her breath. “I’ll do it. I don’t care how badly it scars, as long as the brand isn’t recognizable anymore.” Swallowing her inhibitions, Joza made the decision to put her trust in him. If it meant that she could wear her hair up without worry about strange (and perhaps knowing) glances, she was all for it. Lowering her shoulder, she shrugged the fabric of her shirt lower and worked her arm out of it so that he’d have an easier time avoiding burning her clothes. “Whenever you’re ready.” While she didn't look exactly comfortable with the idea, there was a level of resolve in her voice.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

That was enough for Connor. He patted her knee, squeezing a little for reassurance as he looked up at her.

"Wait here, ok? I’ll be back in two minutes.”

He gave one more squeeze and stood, walking past her back to the incline leading out of the Gardens to the outskirts of the temple grounds. The light was waning, but he didn’t stop to see the surroundings he knew like the back of his hand. Instead he simply walked to the temple, in a side door and to his lower floor quarters.

And in the quarters, tin the unit beside his bed, he unhooked his saber hilt and carried it in his hand, cold and heavy and the weapon that had seen more action than anything else on Voss. Now it was to be used on Joza.

- - - - - - - - - -​

She was still there, and he came around and knelt before her again, hilt by his boot, and he took her gripping hand in both of his.

"Close your eyes, and brace yourself. It will hurt like hell, but don’t move. Grip as hard as you want. Squeeze, bite, whatever. It will be over in seconds and I’ll heal you. Ok?”

With a nod, he sat up beside her and guided her across his lap, facing outwards to the large arch and the small stream. Head resting on his knees, Connor brushed her hair away and ignored the fact he had a beautiful Zeltron on his lap. He smiled to himself for a second at the situation, but soon focused and scooped up the hilt.

He squeezed her hand, gripping his leg, before placing it on her should. The right hand activated the saber with a sharp snap-hiss and she would see the blue glow from the corner of her eye.

"Close your eyes and it’ll be over.”

He exhaled and brought the blade closer. She would feel no heat until contact. Nothing. He counted to three, eyes focused like a hawk on her branding and the blue plasma blade, and brought slowly down on her skin.

Connor went as slow as he could – this was the most dangerous thing he’d done to an ally; one wrong move from her or him and she would die there and then.

The skin sizzled and he blocked everything out to not distract him – flicks of tiny flame spat out form the burning skin and steam rose. It was the gentlest of touches, but it was intense and held on a single spot for three seconds.

Done. He killed the blade as quickly as he had ignited it and dropped it in a heartbeat. The branding was now a 4cm burn mark of raw muscle and burnt flesh. He gripped her shoulder and brought his hand to the wound and held his palm over it and her neck and closed his eyes.

He found the spike in her aura and began to soothe her and amplify the skin particles and muscle fabric quickly with the Force flowing through him. The sensation of calming her would help mentally, and he cooled the raw muscle and speeded up the repair where the broken skin was so there would be no infection. The muscle reduced from being inflamed, and the skin came together partly.

Connor looked, and the mark was now just like a scratch, pinky and a little tender, but naturally would heal better at the rate of her own body. The dry skin around it where the branding had been would flake off in time or with gentle washing.

Letting out a long, relieved breath, he stroked the red hair back and shook her gently, hoping she was ok.

"All done.”

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Connor was only gone for a few minutes, but it gave Joza enough time for her mind to kick into overdrive. She was pregnant with a Sith Lord’s child, and now she was going to allow someone to burn her neck with a lightsaber. Her eyes slid to the path along which Connor had disappeared, and wondered if she should disappear, too. No wussing out now.

When he returned, Joza’s head tilted ever so slightly as he took her hand. It was gentle contact, but it still meant a lot to her given what she’d been through. Her type was sensitive to touch, regardless of the intent behind it. Romantic, sensual, platonic—all were welcome by the Zeltron.

“Yes, alright.” Her head nodded slowly, and she bit her lower lip as her anxieties came to wash over her once more. But she allowed him to guide her head into his lap, and for a moment her mind flared with sexual intent—it was only natural, right?—before it died down just as quickly. In preparation for what was to come, Joza gathered the Force to her, sending it surging through her skin to convene along the left side of her neck. The hum of the lightsaber caused her to flinch visibly, but it served as a reminder to keep still during this…procedure. Her hand curled into the fabric of his pants and she let out shorter breaths, bracing herself for what was to come. Sith flings aside, this was likely the most dangerous thing she’d ever done willingly. This was insanely dangerous, but she supposed Master Harrison was someone she trusted enough for this task.

The blade was white-hot against her neck, and she fought back a jerking motion lest her head be cleaved from her shoulders. Her hand fisted the cloth harder and she grimaced, letting out a pained groan at the intense burning sensation. Exhaling sharp and quick though her nose, she tried to concentrate on using Crucitorn against the fresh burn—it would not heal anything, but potentially dull the pain.

The sound of the hilt hitting the ground did not reach her ears, all there was was the burned, mangled flesh where her brand once was. There was no freeing moment, no weight lifted off of her shoulders as she’d expected—only pain. The adrenaline high did not abate even when he began to heal her. Pulse still pounding, the pained Zeltron let out strained whimpers until the intense heat finally began to fade at the hand of Connor’s accelerated healing.

When all was done, Joza shifted on his lap and pushed herself up by her hands, pausing for a moment to stare up at him through disheveled red hair. Climbing back to a sitting position, she arranged her hair as her breathing began to steady. “Kark, you were right, that did hurt.” Her hand twitched as she thought about touching the mark, but thought it best to leave it before now, tender as it was.

“Thank you, Connor. It means a lot to me.” She gave him an earnest look and a tired smile. “And thank you for not beheading me, too. I figured that the urge must be strong considering all the trouble I’ve given you.”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

The cold but warm sweat on his back, under his arms and teasing his brow was worth it in those seconds when Joza moved, groaned and pushed up. Before she saw him, the Rogue closed his eyes and thanked the Force before returning his normal complexion to reassure he he appeared to know what he had been doing.

He hadn't a clue, but his words convinced the both of them.

"No need to thank me. It was brutal and painful, but if it helped you, then it's worth it. I said I'd be here, and that means anything from long talks in the night to burning slave brands off your neck with a lightsaber. Talk about an ice-breaker.”

Scooping up the saber hilt, he brushed it down and span it around his palm, letting the nature around them soothe the pair and for their hearts to slow down after such a nervous few seconds.

"We'll get that patched up later, a bacta patch overnight will help stem the itchiness and prevent any risk of infection. And it'll stop you messing with it.”

Resting his arms on his knees, he leant forward and sighed a little. After burning one's neck with a blade, it sort of made conversation awkward.

"Be honest,” he said, turning to her, "does this suit me?”

Connor pointed to the crimson streaks under his left eye, giving her a small smile. Both were bearing scars and wounds today, so Connor may as well conquer his most recent one.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza’s hand came to rest just below her new scar, eager to run her hands along it and feel the change. Or to at least itch the irritated skin there. Her mind conjured the image of her mother slapping the offending hand away—don’t pick at it!—and her smiled dipped further to make her look a little more serene. A part of her couldn’t believe what had just happened.

At his question, her head perked up to face him. The Zeltron’s gaze took in his posture, his face, and the mark just below his left eye with growing interest. She figured that she owed him an honest answer. Extending an arm, she gently took his chin between her thumb and forefinger, tilting her head to get a good look at him, but also to amplify her natural empathetic senses. His newest wound was a tough spot, and she didn’t blame him with it being so visible. Each scar had a story, that much she knew, as Joza could identify where all of her own had come from. But unlike torso, back, or even arm scars—facial marks were not so easily hidden.

“You’re a handsome man Connor, scar or no scar.” Her words were murmured as she tilted his head slightly to one side. “But you’re not used to it yet, are you?” She frowned slightly, eyes flicking back and forth as if she were continuing her analysis before letting go of his face and crossing her arms. “If you want, I can loan you some concealer…ah, you’re quite a bit less pink than I am. I’m sure we could find you some that blends with your skin tone nicely.” Leaning back, she offered the man an encouraging smile. Joza could not claim mastery in many things, but she was an expert in aesthetics.


[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

"No. Thank you,” he said, rubbing the pink skin under the wound, "but I'll survive without the concealer. I'd never hide it. Just hide myself in general. Like the masquerade ball, remember? A quiet place to think and a mask does wonders.”

He didn't stop the Zeltron from inspecting his face and the wound. He wasn't exactly ashamed of it; he enjoyed war wounds. This just felt a little too close to home and he had seen many Sith disfigured by evil; he didn't want to be one step away from looking like one.

"I'm proud of you, you know. For coming through all of this and still standing to talk about it. To be honest, we could have lost you to Haytham and the Dark Side long ago. But we didn't. You're here, and for that reason it means you have got a strength inside you you otherwise may choose to ignore. Forget your past. Forget the mistakes you've made. This is your chance to find the real Joza Perl and be something amazing not just for yourself, but for your baby and for your Order who look up to you.”

Copying Joza's actions, her took her chin gently in his hand, moving her head to the side and checking her burn.

"Still pretty. Not need to use concealer for that or anything else.”

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

“Suit yourself.” With a shallow shrug, she let her gaze pass over his face once more, taking in the whole picture. “Now that I look at it again, it makes you look like one of those roguish heroes from a holodrama.” She smiled at the thought.

Proud of me? Joza looked taken aback. No one should be proud of her and the things she’d done. Pregnant with a Sith Lord’s child? Taking a Sith as an on-off lover, even? In her view, she should have been expelled from the Order long ago. But she had come back, and she did want to be here. She must have done something to convince him of that.

When he called her pretty, a slight flush heated her cheeks before fading quickly. Blushing wasn’t something Zeltrons typically did when not in the throes of passion, but he thought she was pretty with the uncomfortable scar. She’d still continue to wear concealer though, because Joza will be Joza.

“I don’t know about forgetting my past and my mistakes.” She shook her head, looking a bit unsure. “I understand that it’s probably not healthy to dwell on it lest I be unable to break away, but I don’t want to forget where I came from.” A pause, and she bit her lip before letting it go. “Or what I’ve done. It’s a part of me. As a reminder, if anything.” She shrugged, exhaling so that her breath would push a stray tendril of hair away from her face. “I don’t know. Everything is just so confusing right now, but…I really appreciate the time you’ve taken to talk with me.”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor understood. He didn't need to be pushing ethics onto her. She knew the score. He knew. They all knew. All that was important was how the final outcome would be.

"It's my pleasure, Joza.” He linked his hands and sat facing the large arch and tapped his fingers together. "I don't know if you know, but we are preparing to move some of the fleet out to Korriban. Sith forces are amassing on the borders and our outposts feel they are going to try and take back their world. Not surprising really.”

He paused, licking his lip slightly, before turning his head to the Jedi Master.

"And before you even think about it, you're not leaving Voss.” His cocky smirk was the biggest "end of" he could make.

There was no way he was letting a pregnant, emotionally confused Zeltron out to fight.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza’s mouth thinned out into a hard line at the mention of Sith on their border. Her first instinct, of course, was to fight. Her heart did leap with youthful excitement, but only for a moment. Numerous battles taught her that war was not always glorious. It was gritty, horrifying, and unfortunately necessary. She opened her mouth to speak, but Connor had interjected before the words could leave her tongue.

Almost reflexively, she pouted. Typically pregnant Jedi wouldn’t be on the frontlines, and Joza knew that she’d have to find a different way to help other than using her saber, but there was something about that smirk that made her think otherwise.

“I’m not even two months along, Connor. My stomach has barely changed! And if the Sith aim to retake their Old Worlds, then we’ll need every available Jedi.” Part of her knew that being pregnant on a battlefield was a stupid idea, but a fleeting part of her relished the idea of not being pregnant.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

The index finger came up, and his head lowered a little.

"We have hundreds of Jedi and hundreds more Rangers. We have stations across the East and we have me,” he smirked, "and you can help without risking your life on the front line. There is much more you can do without fighting.”

The index finger came down to point at her tummy.

"And you can't risk anything happening to you. You is two now, remember. A future Silver Jedi. Or...whatever they choose to be.”

He looked for a reaction.

"Okay?”

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza huffed. Connor was right, and she didn’t want him to be, but a larger part of her was thankful that he was looking out for her. It was true though, Korriban and Kaas would likely not miss the pink Rogue. As much as she knew that there was more to war than raising her blade, it was what she was used to. But there were duties to attend to on Voss.

When his attention turned towards her stomach, she reflexively bit her lips and her eyes flicked away. The idea of becoming a mother was always so far away, a thought she never entertained. Being raised by a single mother who worked a lot—out of necessity to provide for her child—made Joza vow that she’d be either married or in a stable relationship if she were to get pregnant, and raise the child with the father.

But who was she kidding?

“Fine.”

Reverting back to a teenager for the moment, Joza sighed and brushed her hair out of her face before leaning backwards, letting her back rest against the floor. “I’m not even sure how to be a mom.” She sent a hand through her hair again, red waves splayed out on the eroding tile behind her. Joza wasn’t sure if she wanted to be a mom, much less a good one. The thought made her nervous. With a sigh, she rubbed her hand over the plane of her stomach, wondering if the slight incline she felt was truly a baby bump or if it had always been there. What kind of child would it be? Would she rather it take after her, or Haytham? “If this kid is a girl, I’m planting a tracking chip in her.” Her words were mumbled in jest, though maybe not completely.

Turning her head to face him, she lazily blew a tuft of hair from her eyes. “Be careful out there, Harrison. I need you alive to help fix my mistakes.” The beginnings of a wry grin started to curl her lips.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

With a small roll of the eyes at her mild petulance, Connor couldn't help chuckle as she submitted and lay back. It was bad enough she was opening her heart to him and the foolish side of him began to care, but she was naturally very pretty, and he was a male, and she was female, and she looked good enough to...

Connor tore his head away a little, blowing out a sigh and cursing himself. Two moments to compose himself, and then look back at her.

"I'll be back, and this Rebellion will probably be nothing major so I doubt you're going to miss much. And to be honest,” he flicked a small pebble up with his finger and threw it to the stream, "it'd be nice to have a welcoming face like yours to come home to for once.”

He flashed a silly smile. Sometimes returning to a face like hers in hope of protecting her future made the battle all the more worthwhile.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Sighing again, Joza shifted and rolled her shoulders against the hard ground. She disliked being left out, especially when a Sith assault was involved. “I hope so. You guys had better be back home in time for dinner.” She toyed with a lock of hair, rubbing the red strands idly between her fingers. The dark crimson tress was probably her most defining attribute, but it made her stick out like a sore thumb. “I may or may not be here when you get back, too. I technically live on Lianna, not Voss.”

Moving upwards so that she was resting on her elbows, the Zeltron appraised the Rogue Master for a brief moment. “Where are you from, Connor?”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Pretending not to care where she lived, he nodded, continuing to tap his fingers together.

"Hey, that's fine. I'm sure you'll know when we get back and I'm sure you'll be informed along the way of whatever happens. But, anyway,” he moved to her question, "I'm from Anaxes originally. Never been back there since being shipped off to Coruscant with the Republic. I was intending to return, but my career path changed and you could say I felt a bit of a failure not compelting my Jedi training so couldn't face returning.”

Between the lines, he had been a loner all his life pretty much.

"From Anaxes to Coruscant, then hiding away in the suburbs, than travelling to Rhen Var where I found links to the Silver Jedi, and then here to Voss and it's the longest home I've ever known. I've been one from side of the galaxy to another, but I always end up back here.”

He glanced up and inhaled the air that was nothing but pure from the nature around them.

"You?”

[member="Joza Perl"]