The grass rustled under leather boots as a small shape slowly made its way over the hill.
Dantooine, the planet hadn't changed much, only the force knew if it even could change. The grass still rustled in the ceaseless wind, the gnarled trees still seemed as unliving as the boulders scattered around the plains. Even the animals seemed more or less content to bask in the sun.
The harmony was, as before, deafening.
This time however, it didn't make her restless. So perhaps the planet had changed? Or maybe it was she who had changed? The thought wasn't surprising, nor scary. She knew things had changed, the galaxy itself had changed after her...so who would be arrogant not to think themselves to have changed?
She shook her head, the exile, how many days had they known each other? It hadn't been more then a few weeks at most, yet they had been so intense that it had felt like a lifetime. The exile, so different from Revan, or so people said, yet they were so similar in one aspect.
They had turned the galaxy on its head.
Where was she now? It was impossible to tell, she didn't really know what had happened. They had left the remains of Malachor, the death-knell of the planet having left them all exhausted, in mind and body.
Then there had been lots of confusion.
When she disappeared, she still didn't understood how the exile had managed it, the group had broken apart. They had never really said anything, no final goodbyes, they had simply split and gone to wherever their feet took them.
Now, a year later, Mira realised that it couldn't have gone any other way. They had all needed to be alone with their thoughts, to really absorb what had happened, to understand how the burdened exile had turned their reality on its head.
Mira smiled and pulled her dark cloak closer, ripping it slightly against the zipper of the ballistic mesh jacket underneath, heck...a year ago she wouldn't even have been capable of thinking too much about it. The force moved in mysterious ways...
That was another thing that had changed, the force was no longer a distant religion and deus ex machina people spoke of in a mixture of fear and awe. Even now she could hear its whisper, as if the lightsaber now hanging from her belt wasn't a reminder enough...
She frowned when she finally reached to the top, she was done thinking, for she had reached her conclusion. The one thing the exile had taught her, far more important then the song of the force of the way of the saber, was the responsibilities of the jedi.
Before her the broken remains of a road snaked a barely discernible path towards a massive building. Around it the enclosed gardens was in full bloom, to her surprise they were tended to by a somewhat dented protocol droid.
The building itself was now largely bereft of its old battle scars, the circular 'keep' almost shining in the sunlight, only the towers still showed what happened, one was a mere skeleton while the others were all in various states of disrepair.
She didn't feel as surprised as she should.
Slipping down the sharp slope Mira pushed her deep red hair out of her face and dusted her cloak off, wanting to be at least a little respectable. She also furtively loaded her wrist launcher with a few darts. She wasn't really expecting a hostile reception, but who knew what might be waiting for her?
The droid didn't look up from its work as she came within reach, one of the thin arms ended in a pair of scissors, the other in some pliers. Mira tilted her head to the side. The barrel shaped torso was dented and rusty, as was the equally ugly head, its left photoreceptor blinking on and off.
The thing must have been restored from pieces of the debris... "Excuse me?"
The droid almost seemed to flinch as it turned to face her, the scissors flicking out and tearing apart a delicate looking flower. "Oh dear..." The droid lamented, the pliers gently removing the casualty from the ground and storing it in a small sack tied to its torso. Its voice was hollow and almost seemed to slur a little. "Yes, how may I help you?"
"Who is your owner?" Mira almost reached out to aid the machine as its thin legs wobbled when it slipped on some gravel.
"I am 3H-7T, I am owned by the jedi academy." The droid turned back to its work seconds later. Obviously its programming was of the simpler type.
"Well okay, but who built you? No wait..." Mira sighed, suspecting the droid would suddenly start talking about some mechanic generations ago. "Who put you to this job?"
"I was ordered to prune the garden by master Bao-Dur."
So the Zabrak was here, Mira wasn't surprised that the man had arrived before her, he had always been loyal to the exile, perhaps he hoped to continue her legacy? Or maybe he simply wanted to fix the damage done to this old place? She remembered his look when he had last seen it...
"Master eh? Someone got high opinions of themselves..."
"Excuse me?"
"Never mind, can I enter?"
The droid didn't look up from its job as it removed a thorny little bush that seemed to attack the other flowers. "I have no instructions regarding that miss."
Regarding the droid for another moment Mira shrugged. "Well okay then." Turning about she stalked down the familiar path. Perhaps she should head to the main entrance and announce herself to whatever waited. But she had a feeling...someone waited for her down in the sublevel.
Last time she had walked down here it had been in search of jedi. They had been led by the exile...who had wept at the state of her old academy. What would she think now? Now that the walls were whole again? Now when the place seemed to rise from the ashes? When Mira knew Jedi waited for her?
As the door slid open for her Mira found herself whistling.