"Do you ever think about what your life would've been like if it weren't for the Jedi?" he asks Meetra one night in their Telos apartment. As much as he hates doing errands for strangers while they wait for the Ebon Hawk to be found, it's still way better than being under house arrest. With Kreia nowhere to be found doing…whatever it is that Kreia does, it almost feels like home.
The small part of him that hasn't been tainted with the cynicism that comes from experiencing total galactic war even feels these errands may be worthwhile for the devastated planet. And as much as he'd vehemently deny it to anyone who asked, he enjoys being part of something bigger than himself. Something noble, maybe even heroic.
"Atton, I've spent the better part of the last decade with very little to do but reflect on my life, my choices, and my regrets. I've thought about and questioned everything I've ever done," Meetra tells him firmly but somberly as she walks over to the window overlooking the city. "Do you? You know, think about alternate paths you could have taken in life?"
The correct answer is yes, probably even more than she has, but he doesn't say that. "I think everyone does," he tells her instead, joining her in staring at the traffic out the window.
"So then why did you ask?" She turns her head between looking at him and out the window as she leans forward against the glass.
She has him there. He wants to get to know her, he really does. Except that's kind of difficult to do when he doesn't want her to really know him, or at least who he was during the Jedi Civil War. "I don't know. Being a Jedi just seems like a very committed and different lifestyle than most, I guess. Seems like not a lot of freedom, which would drive me crazy."
She thinks for a bit before speaking. "It was different, yes, and quite a commitment. I'd say we still had more freedom than most in the galaxy. Some of the Outer Rim planets I saw in exile had more slaves than free people. Well, you're probably aware of that, having grown up on Nar Shaddaa."
"Yeah, I know about the underground slave trade industry there. Never got involved; too dirty, even for me." Atton finds himself frowning as he says the words, even the end bit that he would normally say with a cocky smirk. Proof that being around this woman really is shaping him more than he could have construed. He pauses before deciding there's no harm in her knowing about his birthplace. "I actually grew up on Alderaan. Didn't stay there long, though."
"You must have hated it there," she says bluntly, startling him. She must have noticed that, because she follows up with, "The politics and the nobles, I mean. I'm sure they get on most people's nerves."
"Did you just use one of your Jedi mind tricks or something?" he plays off like it's a joke, which it partially is, while he begins his longstanding routine of counting pazaak cards in his head.
"No, I'm still too far from truly feeling the Force like I once did to do that. And even if I wasn't, it still seems like kind of a rude thing to do," she smiles sheepishly. "I spent a couple months on Alderaan with Master Kavar years ago. It was one of those diplomacy missions I've never been fond of. The nobles from House Organa and House Thul we worked with were pompous, obnoxious, and out of touch. Nothing seemed to come of that mission."
He's pretty sure she's telling the truth, especially after he had that conversation with Kreia about a Jedi being useless without the Force. It was by far the most pleasant conversation they've had, and he was still uncomfortable and somewhat bothered by it. "Those families? They wouldn't stop fighting if someone blew up the planet."
"Them and the rest of the galaxy." She turns to face him fully, leaning on her shoulder against the window pane. "I never would've guessed you were from Alderaan, though, and I mean that as a compliment."
He tries to play it cool, nodding slightly to thank her. He does his best to keep a neutral face as he watches her gaze at the stars and then back at him, her expression blank.
"I never actually knew where I was born. For all I know, I could have been from some obnoxious noble family on Alderaan. Or a slave on Kessel. Growing up, I just associated Dantooine as my homeworld and the Jedi Order as my family." She looks a bit sad as she speaks, and he feels a bit guilty for bringing up the topic in the first place.
"So, in this metaphorical Jedi family, who was your husband?" he asks before he can consider how the conversation will play out. Again, he plays it like a joke despite knowing it's not funny.
"You know, you already brought up the husband thing before on Peragus while doing a really bad job at pretending not to stare at my chest. If you're trying to be subtle, it's not working," Meetra tells him as matter-of-factly as she can. Except he can tell that beneath all that sass is just a tiny amount of mild amusement. He wouldn't continue if there wasn't one.
"It's never been a talent of mine," he responds coyly.
She sighs under her breath before speaking. "The customs of marriage and having children were completely foreign to me growing up as a Jedi. If anything, I was taught to avoid them and just assumed they were things I could never experience. I thought about them during the war and my exile, but they just seemed too distant after all those years with the Jedi to really understand. It'd be like trying to imagine a desert planet like Tatooine when you've spent your whole life freezing on Hoth."
"So the Jedi really are incapable of love?" It's something he was told often when he was trained to torture and break the Jedi, probably as a means to dehumanize them. He just doesn't truly believe now that they could feel so little, especially Meetra.
"On the contrary. You're thinking of the Order forbidding attachment, which often accompanies love, especially of the romantic and family variety. The Jedi wouldn't have to drill those lessons into our brains if we weren't capable of feeling them in the first place. In fact, I'd say one would at least need to possess the ability to love to truly command the light side of the Force. It's those on the dark side that couldn't love anyone if they tried." She takes note of his confused expression. "But I was exiled for doing what I thought was right by doing what I thought was helping people in a time of war, so I probably have no idea."
"So you're saying it would possible for you." He quickly adds, "For all Jedi and former Jedi to love."
She nods, and he breathes a sigh of relief. He might just have a fighting chance with her, and maybe even have some dignity to spare.