[You get a flood of memories-- but they're not wholly clear like the ones in the portrait gallery. They're fuzzy around the edges, muted by time and heartbreak.
You remember the first time you got your headdress. Jedi Master Shaak-Ti bestowed it upon you when Yoda proclaimed you ready to be a Padawan. She told you more about the customs of your people-- your people that you haven't seen in eleven years since you came to live at the Temple.
You remember Shaak-Ti attaching a small set of silka beads to the end in place of your Padawan braid, since togruta don't have hair. How proud you felt.
You remember when the dangerous criminal Cad Bane ripped those beads from your head and put them on his belt, like they were some trophy to keep. How dare he, how dare he? You should have felt fear, but you only felt rage.
You remember when you were expelled from the Order, how they ripped the beads from your head too. But that time you didn't feel rage. You only felt endless despair.
Most clearly, you remember Anakin's hand, outstretched to you, your beads in his palm. Asking you to take it. The Jedi Council standing behind him, asking you back into the Order after they so wrongly expelled you. You remember their hypocrisy. Their lack of any true apology, save from Plo Koon and Anakin-- the only two people who never truly needed to apologise in the first place. Their desperate struggle to cover their asses, to make it seem like this was the will of the Force all along and that they hadn't possibly just made a horrendous mistake that had nearly resulted in your death.
You remember closing Anakin's outstretched hands over the silka beads. Saying with actions what you cannot say in words-- "keep them." You remember turning and walking away. You cannot possibly stay in an Order you know betrayed you at the drop of a hat. It would only foster resentment and bitterness in your heart. And that is not the way of the Jedi. Your path lies elsewhere now. Where... you don't know. You still need to find it.]
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You remember the first time you got your headdress. Jedi Master Shaak-Ti bestowed it upon you when Yoda proclaimed you ready to be a Padawan. She told you more about the customs of your people-- your people that you haven't seen in eleven years since you came to live at the Temple.
You remember Shaak-Ti attaching a small set of silka beads to the end in place of your Padawan braid, since togruta don't have hair. How proud you felt.
You remember when the dangerous criminal Cad Bane ripped those beads from your head and put them on his belt, like they were some trophy to keep. How dare he, how dare he? You should have felt fear, but you only felt rage.
You remember when you were expelled from the Order, how they ripped the beads from your head too. But that time you didn't feel rage. You only felt endless despair.
Most clearly, you remember Anakin's hand, outstretched to you, your beads in his palm. Asking you to take it. The Jedi Council standing behind him, asking you back into the Order after they so wrongly expelled you. You remember their hypocrisy. Their lack of any true apology, save from Plo Koon and Anakin-- the only two people who never truly needed to apologise in the first place. Their desperate struggle to cover their asses, to make it seem like this was the will of the Force all along and that they hadn't possibly just made a horrendous mistake that had nearly resulted in your death.
You remember closing Anakin's outstretched hands over the silka beads. Saying with actions what you cannot say in words-- "keep them." You remember turning and walking away. You cannot possibly stay in an Order you know betrayed you at the drop of a hat. It would only foster resentment and bitterness in your heart. And that is not the way of the Jedi. Your path lies elsewhere now. Where... you don't know. You still need to find it.]