All that sounds through my chambers is the soft beating of my heart and the occasional breath slipping past my lips. In the calm stasis of meditation, it's as if I am locked in a void of nothingness, yet sense all of what goes on beyond that; every emotion and aura radiating from the life around me. All thoughts have been drawn to a blank as I find myself submerged and lost in the serenity of the Force.
Currently, my ship, a Defender-class light corvette named the Crusader, is speeding through Hyperspace, on the way to the planet of Alderaan. A feeling of thankfulness and relief has come over my crew and I; for weeks now we have longed to see a world flourishing with flora and fauna. Not the crime-filled streets of Nar Shaddaa, which reeks of drunken patrons and pollution, or the never ending deserts of Tatooine, where the blinding power of the world's twin suns is overwhelming. A sense of eagerness, almost like that of giddy younglings, has washed over all of us.
My crew consists of four others, all diverse from one another in both personality and appearance. The first of which I have known since my days as Yuon Pars' apprentice, and has remained by my side through the most tasking of trials and missions; Qyzen Fess. Qyzen is a Trandoshan hunter that Master Par had befriended many years ago. Although slow to trust- understandable considering his dangerous lifestyle and the assumptions made toward the Dosh, therefore including the level of distain and low tolerance directed toward him- there was no questioning or doubting his sincere and strong loyalty to those he was closest to. Dubbed by Qyzen as the Scorekeeper's Herald, a living avatar of the Trandoshan Goddess, he devoted himself to joining me on my mission to end the Dark Plague, a Force-based illness that has affected many esteemed Masters within the Order. Overtime, our friendship has grown, and I am more than grateful for it.
The second member of the crew is my droid, C2-N2. He is a maintenance droid with a gold detailed casing. Although he never joins us on our missions, he is committed to keeping the ship up and running. His fussiness over some things is amusing and his company and assistance in various tasks onboard the Crusader in gladly appreciated.
Finally, there is Tharan Cedrax and his holographic assistant, Holiday. Tharan is a human, with golden brown-nearly dirty blonde- hair, a goatee, and green eyes. He is also a skilled slicer, professor, and exo-engineer. His air of arrogance in his ability to seduce women and doubt in the Force has led to conflicts between he and I. How often my thoughts have drifted to just abandoning him on some world in the Outer-Rim- he was the one who invited himself no this journey after all- and leaving him in the confidence that he would be fine on his own. However, I know in my heart these are all empty threats; it's just not my way. Qyzen though…I just might get him to agree to take care of that particular job. His annoyance and contempt toward Tharan equals my own if it doesn't exceed it tenfold. Holiday is almost as bad, confronting me with well-hidden envy in Tharan's attempts to get in my head and her obsession with all things pink and fashionable. She is my foil in almost every way imaginable.
I myself am a Naktaran; born of the water class and raised in the way of the Jedi ever since the Imperial attack on my Homeworld of Naktara, when I was no more than a mere toddler. Naktara is a world deep in Wild Space, so Republic assistance could not reach us until days after the majority of the fighting had occurred and the capital was nearly overrun. I am the daughter of King Shaam Beeodess and Queen Akeeta Beeodess; the only heir to the throne once my parents retire from their lives as diplomats. My ancestors have been of royal lineage for over two centuries, keeping true to Natara's principals and to the freedom of the people, teaching our offspring the ways of peace and to turn away from any degree of corruption lest our government be tainted and fall.
Our history from the days of old, before the time of interstellar space travel, has mainly evaded us and become things of legend and theory. However, the story passed on throughout our generations state that our people were once divided into four main clans based on the four elements; Water, Earth, fire, and Air. It had been an age without peace; without trust or acceptance with any member outside one's own clan, and war raged on through the centuries. Long story short, two lovers of separate clans, guided by the hands of fate, united as one. The act caused outrage, confusion, and finally dawning realization that peace was possible among the four. The lovers became the Naktara's first king and queen, with a Legislative branch of dukes and duchesses from divided territories on the planet to help rule and advise. Deciding on a government had been a challenge for those ancestors, so it was decreed that the people would elect their rulers, however, there was no law deciding the number of terms one could be reelected. Also, if a ruler could not complete a term, then their duties were trusted to the first born of their family. Any act of corruption or wrong doing, or any assumption that a ruler didn't have Naktara's best interests at heart, would be judged by the people, and if proven guilty than he or she would be quickly and efficiently removed from their position. Naktaran government was a strange, yet perfect balance between a Republic and Monarchy.
Evolution as well as the joining of the four clans had changed genetics as well. Before, Naktarans could very well have been four separate species. Time had turned us into polymorphic humanoids. Those of Air had feathered wings and the horizontally slitted eyes of birds. Of Earth; fangs and cat's eyes. Of Water; solid-colored eyes of a deep brown or jet black, with gills on one's neck. Of Fire; a Naktaran's eyes were pure white, and their body would glow a brilliant shade of any color, their hair a slightly darker shade of it. This color variation was known as ones' "Inner Flame", determined by the aura and spirit of that person. A Naktaran was born into any one of these elements and upon reaching puberty could finally change into any of the four…but it's a painful process to go through. I remember my change; the feeling of being burned alive at my core, the tearing at my back as wings developed and tore out of me for the first time, the foaming of my mouth and spasms the occurred as I appeared to be fighting an invisible foe, pulling my hair as my jaws torturously ached, the assault upon all of my senses as more primal instincts took control of my thinking. In the end though, to me and to my fellow Naktarans, it is worth it; to feel the joy of flight, to know warmth and become its master, to search below the depths of oceans and see the wonders it offers, and to look through the darkness without fear and absorb in every factor of the world…It is truly amazing to look through those various eyes.
I am born of Water, and therefore have acquired the skills and personality many of my own possess. My mother is of the same, while my father is of Earth. I have gained much of his traits as well. There is, however, one factor that separates me from all other Naktarans.
At a young age, all true Naktarans are required to go to the forests alone and carve a symbol known as a "Charm of Fate" out of wood. The type is of that individual's decision and is the beginning of the signs of who they are. Once the Charm is carved, it is sent to the Council of Four. The Council of Four is a carefully chosen group of Naktarans who are never seen or heard from unless they call upon someone or the king and queen have sent someone to them. It is even a requirement that, before coronation, the royals must visit the Council. I myself have not seen them. Only those chosen are to be given an audience. They are said to be the wisest of our kind and helped keep the balance of life and growth on Naktara. It is also rumored that they are Force-sensitives.
The Council has other duties as well; one of which being the judgment. Although the process is unknown, the Council can feel the crafter of the Charm and see the path that has been laid out before that person. Their fate is written in the wood; typically a small, vague prophecy, but none the less most often true. For the first time amongst my people, a Charm was delivered back to its creator with a prophecy of an unknown fate- mine.
No one knows what it means, but the opinions and rumors have spread none the less. I am to live a legend or die horrifically. I am to bring a new age of greatness to the royal bloodline or I am the fall of my family's long and just rule. I am to bring great fortune or great destruction upon my planet.
Only one thing is certain; to my people, I am an outsider. I am something to be feared because I am the unknown.
This being so, along with the attack of Naktara and my high midichlorian count, was what convinced my family to allow me to be taken to the Jedi Order. Still, my duties and studies as the princess of Naktara do not end. I regret neither and will uphold my honor and duty to serve both my people and the citizens of the Republic.
A chime sounds on my wrist comlink. My deep brown eyes open- I am in Water form- as I accept the call. "Yes, See-Two?" I ask. If it were any of the others, they would have knocked on the door to my chambers. The only times our comlinks are activated are when we are on our missions or parted some other way. The only reason C2-N2 has a connection to my comlink is so that, while he watches over the ship, he may contact me quickly without leaving his work.
"Mistress Silya, I have prepared a healthy meal for you and the others to enjoy in the meeting room whilst I get my power recharged in the lower decks. If it pleases you, should I announce over the intercom to inform the others?" he says in his usually polite manner.
"Of course, See-Two, that would be much appreciated. Thank you for your consideration in our hunger and well-being."
"No trouble at all, Mistress! Happy to serve!" With that, he breaks off the connection.
I get up from my bed and don on my robe; we should be exiting Hyperspace soon anyway. Other than needing to pull my brown hair with faint highlights- casting shades of red and gold- back in a ponytail, I am already dressed and all of my equipment is securely fastened to my belt. In comparison to other Consulars, my outfit is odd. Underneath my robe, I wear a tan, tank-like tunic, with a two-piece tabard that drapes from my shoulders, over my breasts, and tucks underneath my belt, flowing down to my mid-thighs. The tabards and the pants I wear are an even darker brown than my hair, the same color as my robe. The outfit is lightly armored, due to my diplomatic status, and allows me to stay mobile and flexible should a fight occur, which more often than not, they do. The combat boots I wear though are coal black, as well as my fingerless fighting gloves.
As I hear C2-N2 inform everyone over the com that dinner had been prepared, I take a seat in the meeting room and wait for the others. Soon, Qyzen and Tharan enter. Each have been busily active no the journey from Tatooine; Qyzen was busying himself with cleaning and checking his weapons, along with removing the sand from his armor. Tharan had been doing some maintenance on the ship- despite my insistence that C2 had everything running at full capacity, but he declares that he can greatly improve it…He has me worried. Holiday must be charging her power cell with C2. I personally prefer it that way; I'm not sure why, but it just feels awkward to have someone staring at you while you eat, while they themselves an incapable of eating. I don't really understand how Tharan can stand it. Actually, I do; he probably adores the attention.
I reach for a Dxun Moon Fruit, sitting in a bowl in the middle of the table, and bite though the thin, yet firm skin. The tangy and citrusy flavor makes my lips slightly draw back, but the bolt of energy and alertness in sends through me is welcomed and irresistible. Juice drips from my mouth and I have to lean over my plate to prevent it from falling on my clothes. I catch Tharan roll his eyes as he takes his seat directly across from me, no doubt at my unlady-like behavior. Why would it matter? I am among friends-or in Tharan's and Holiday's case…mutual acquaintances at best- and what need have I to behave as a royal? Manners are fine and dandy, but on my own ship I intend to relax and cut loose. And besides; Qyzen doesn't seem to mind. Tharan can just deal with it.
Qyzen sits by my side, as usual, and nods his head in greeting before digging into in own plate; a platter of Bantha meat from one of the creatures that he himself had killed during our quarrels with the Sand People, cured and cleansed of any possible bacteria or disease, the rest carefully preserved and stored in an air-tight containment unit. It was prepared raw, in appeal to his carnivorous appetite, slightly heated so the blood would be warm and thick. In our first few meals as a team, Holiday and Tharan were disturbed at the sight, and had somewhat graciously excused themselves back to their quarters where they would dine alone. As a Jedi, I have seen worse on battlefields and among the delicacies of other cultures, and am therefore unaffected by this.
Besides…
I look down at my own dish; I also am dining on Bantha meat. Although cooked so that I may eat without risk of becoming ill, my food is still very, very rare. C2 insists that, cooked like this, I gain more nutrients and that my body needs more protein. Still, I'm tempted to beg Tharan to slip some salad out of the galley and sneak it into my room. C2 wouldn't suspect him and I doubt I could ask Qyzen, who may not understand my want for greens. I also wouldn't want to insult him since he is the one who provided this meal.
Meanwhile, Tharan- the lucky son of a nerfherder- enjoyed his dinner of Dewback stew, Ferroan Spinach, and Salthia Beans.
I switch into my Earth form, my tongue moving over the now familiar fangs as they take form in my mouth, so that I may tear with ease into the food. I begin to salivate as the scent of the meat tries to take control of my more primal urges. Naktarans are omnivores and respect nature in all its forms, strong believers in the value of all life. However, should one of Earth be given the choice between a basket full of fruits or a steak, they'd more than likely choose the latter every time. Evidence shows that in the past, the Earth clan raised the more war-like members of our species and it remains so that those born of Earth tend to be the best of our warriors and guards. I should know; I've seen my father in his spars and have noted his amazing skill in both combat and strategy. The news I receive from my homeworld from time to time states that he has feverishly been at work in making certain that no attacks such as the one from the Imperials occurs again. Although willing to raise to any challenge that should be placed in front of us or our allies, Naktara tends to keep peaceful relations with the other systems. However, we have also been known for our stubbornness and viciousness should diplomacy fail and fighting occur.
I believe Qyzen prefers me in this form. I can't help but sense- and scent- a spark of happiness, or maybe a feeling of closeness, any time I change into it, coming from him. Maybe it's the familiarity and comfort of being near someone you can relate to, the feeling of belonging. I do have traits of a hunter more so in this state than the other three...
I file those thoughts away for later.
The current silence throughout the meal has lasted quite long enough. Picking up a roll from a serving tray by the fruit bowl, I cut it open with my knife and begin to butter it as I speak without looking up from the task at hand, "Tharan," I ask with, I admit, a lack of disinterest and more so concern for whatever the Kriff he's doing to the ship, "How's your progress coming along?"
"You mean on the ship?" he asks beaming, obviously not understanding my tone or ignoring it entirely in exchange for the recognition of his work, "Things are going wonderfully, my lovely, albeit fretful, Jedi. Why, I believe I have found a way to increase the ship's speed by five percent by…"
As Tharan goes on, I hear Qyzen mutter a question to me in Dosh. I had already taken the liberty of learning the language rather than using a translator or C2's assistance. Tharan, however, even if he had heard Qyzen, would not be able to grasp a single word. "Herald, why did you insist on letting soft thing begin dull conversation? Though felt uncomfortable in silence, was enjoying peace and quiet."
I hide back a grin by wiping my mouth with a napkin, also successfully stifling in a chuckle in the process. However, nothing can hide the laughter in my eyes from his comment. Tharan catches it, "Is something the matter, Silya?" Confusion is written all over his face.
I expertly pull myself together and remove the napkin from my lips, which are curved in a small, reassuring grin, "I am fine." I take a drink of water from my glass, which has until now been left untouched, allowing a few sweet seconds for me to try to think up a rational excuse to my reaction.
The intercom comes to life, sparing me from what would've been an awkward moment, and C2's robotic voice is heard, "Mistress, I need you to come up to the bridge shortly. We are about to make the drop out of Hyperspace and you will be required to request landing clearance from the Alderaan Air Forces. As you know, the Republic grants you save passing through such territories, but many civilized worlds desire an explanation as to why a Jedi is arriving in their system, as well as the firepower we wield, the associates among our party, and they will also need to inform you which hanger the ship will need to be docked in."
I rise from my seat, pushing it in behind me as I press a button on the wall to respond. This time it is my voice that fills the ship, "I read you C2. I will join you on the bridge immediately." Pardoning myself, I exit and make the short trip from the meeting room to the bridge.
There are still a few minutes until we are able to enter realspace. I take the time to stare out of the viewport, mesmerized by the blend of colors as we speed by. Strapping myself into the pilot's seat, I alert the rest of the team, "Preparing for the exit out of Hyperspace. Unless you enjoy getting tossed around you all might want to head to the acceleration chairs here or in the main hold."
It is no surprise when everyone, including Holiday and C2, join me on the bridge and strap in, to get our first look at a world flourishing with life since Qyzen's and my adventure to Taris. Soon the vibrant tunnel of colors turns into a vast expanse of twinkling stars. And before us is Alderaan; lush with green forests and oceans of dazzling blue. It is not long before we receive a transmission from onworld. A dark-skinned human male in a military officer's uniform appears via hologram.
"Attention arriving spacecraft," he proclaims, an edge of authority in his voice, "You have entered Alderaanian territory. Our scanners recognize you as a Republic corvette, but do to precautions, we must insist you tell us who you are as well as what purpose you have on Alderaan. Do you copy?"
I stand before him, my hands behind my back and speak in a clear voice, wasting no time with pleasantries, "I copy, sir. I am Jedi Consular, Silya Beeodess, allianced to the Grand Republic and its principles. I come by order of the Jedi Council on official business to aid Master Sidonie Garen in her worthy goal of bringing peace to the Houses of Alderaan. The Council worries for her well-being during these stressing times and requested my assistance after losing contact with her for some time." It is not a total lie, but strays from speaking of the dark-side illness that could very well be affecting Master Garen even as we speak. I send through a document of access codes, "I believe these will assure my honesty."
"Just a moment please, Master Beeodess," the man disappears for a couple minutes before returning into the range of the holotransmitter, "It seems that everything checks out. You are free land. Hanger seventeen in docking bay three at Pallista Spaceport has been prepared for your arrival." Without so much as a curt goodbye, the transmission breaks off. I begin the docking procedures. As we land, I can't help but feel troubled. That emotion in question in just barely quelled by the hope that we have enough to heal Master Garen of what ails her.
And also in hope that my strength might last long enough to end the Dark Plague for good.
