“You haven’t lectured me on attachment. Thank you.” Jusik turned to her with a broad smile that could only have come from being at complete peace with himself. He indicated his body with a flourish of his hands: dull green Mandalorian armor in the form of body plates and greaves. The matching helmet with its sinister T-shaped slit in the visor stood on the floor beside him. “You think,” he said, “that I’ll be walking back into the Jedi Temple wearing this? You think this isn’t attachment?” He really did find it funny. He laughed. The two of them were everything the Jedi Order wouldn’t approve
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