Talyra sat in the captain’s chair of the Defender. A reassuring hand to her jewel-hilted lightsaber, she folded her hands in her lap. With a wave of her hand, she dismissed Lieutenant Iresso and looked away as he left her alone in the room. Space was before her, the Force was all around her, and she had more titles and accolades than she could count. She even had the finest clothing, envied throughout the galaxies.
People marveled at Jedi, but they never understood how much a Jedi had to give up. There was much to abandon in the pursuit of hope. Among that was love: the thrill of hunting Tharan and the genius of his scientific mind; the comfort (and weakness) she had found in a moment of a shared kiss with Iresso–only to later spurn him.
Her job was political, and that’s what she signed up for. She had half a dozen allies on this ship, including Nadia who was an ideal student. But Talyra could never be a good enough example, nor a pure enough Jedi with this desire to proceed.