𝕺, 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖞 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 - [𝕬.𝕾.]

𝕿𝖜𝖔

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝘄𝗼:

𝗣𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗢𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗱𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗻

Obi-Wan Kenobi knew.

He didn't say it directly aloud or even bring up Morrow in a passing test, but Alessia was sure that he knew of her origin. Call it a feeling in her chest or a burning sensation in her head, that of the stares cast her way every few seconds the entire journey towards Coruscant-- no matter how short.

He didn't look at her in disgust or protest, but it was there. A flicker of uncertainty and caution. She caught it at least three times during the ship ride, one that she was already uneasy about given how long it had been since she traveled in the galaxy.

She wasn't sure if Jedi were meant to be impartial to conflict outside of the Republic's affiliations and doings, but she had hoped so for nothing other than her sake.

The situation on Morrow was-- to her knowledge-- resolved. Most of the people fled, so there were none to risk for greater power of whatever they were trying to commit to. All she knew was that it had to do with the population.

Of course, none of this stopped the opinions and hatred towards Morrowins. Guilty by association or something.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking that some sort of sentiment be given to her regardless of where she came from.

Being treated fairly, that is. Though, she had to admit, it was very possible that the Jedi's looks were not because of where she comes from.

She just killed a man by means of the Force she didn't realize was so strong within her. She's untrained, there is nearly no reason that she should've been able to exercise her connection at all. Yet, she did.

So, when they landed upon a landing pad outside of what she can only assume was the infamous Jedi Temple, Alessia made herself appear unaffected by the stares he had been giving her, knowing that they were possibly reasonable and having no idea what was about to happen.

Instead, she observed her surroundings on the new planet she'd never traveled to, eventually marveling at the massively tall structure directly in front of her. Everything was lit up in hues of warm, colorful lights with a gentle hum of blues beneath.

They were high up, she realized. The wind swept past her hair softly, not like it had on Improcco with frigidness and blasting cold.

The landing platform was not on ground level, leaving them to walk across a circular area which connected to a long strip, no one waiting for them on the side of doors.

She descended from the space craft with warmth on her skin, a lump forming in her throat and Obi-Wan's hand softly nudging her onward beside him.

Alessia looked his way.

"The Clone Wars," she spoke for the first time since they left, "you fight too?"

She'd noticed a rather brutal looking bruise appearing below his jaw, hiding beneath his beard and his groomed hair. Alessia admittedly knew very little about the Clone Wars, keeping to herself in that cantina and the space she thankfully reserved above its upper-level space.

She knew few people, and none that could be bothered by the political tension she knew was thriving beneath the war.

There was a separatist army, something she'd heard was driven by a Confederacy of Independant Systems or along those lines. And, from what she knew, the Republic had a clone army of troopers.