Chapter Two: Journies and Memories.
"Sub-Lieutenant Zemmeck, you have an incoming message from Coruscant. Should I direct it to your cabin?"
Shamo shook herself awake, "yes, forward it here, please, Ensign."
Quickly pulling herself off her desk and clearing the pads away from her holo projector, Shamo flicked the now red and blinking play button. A cloaked figure appeared in front of her in miniature size, flickering every now and then as static breached the integrity of the transmission.
"Padawan Zemmeck?"
It was Master Koronin, a friend of her master.
"Yes, Koronin? This is Zemmeck, how can I help you?"
Koronin pushed back his hood and looked up at Shamo, "I have both good news and bad news for you, my friend."
Shamo inhaled deeply, "the good new first, please."
"The good news," Koronin paused, and looked down at his hands, "is that the battle on Penthold went in our favour. There were few casualties."
"That's very good news, indeed... and what is the bad news?"
Koronin paused for a long time; the crackle of static seemed much louder in his silence. When he looked back up Shamo could see now that his eyes were red and glistening with unshed tears, and when he moved to speak, his voice broke.
"I'm sorry, Azaria, but one of those few casualties was Revii. He's one with the Force now... I'm so sorry."
Shamo was in shock – her entire body felt like rock and her heart seemed to be pierced by splinters of ice. A lump developed in her throat.
"Dead?"
She managed to hoarsely whisper.
Koronin nodded, "I'm sorry."
"How did I not sense his leaving? How did I not know...? I should have been there!"
Looking up at her sternly, Koronin shook his head, "don't think like that, padawan. It's not your fault. He went peacefully, without pain. You have been busy, unhealthily busy. You need rest to heal – I've been ordered to summon you home to the temple. The council feels you need to come home, and I do as well."
Shamo closed her eyes and reached out to her master... but found only emptiness. The loss of that golden web between them was broken, the ends drifting away in the wind. Tears fell unbidden from her eyes and ran down her cheeks.
"I will come home, master Koronin, when my task is done."
"Azaria," Koronin sighed. "I will not argue with you – come home soon. Please."
And with that, the transmission ended and Shamo was left looking at the rotating logo of the transmission broadcaster.
Shamo sighed at the sight of the ship she was to take – A new Corellian CR90 corvette. It was only a prototype, and the former Jedi was hesitant to ride on a basically untested starship.
"Lieutenant, these ships are the best you can get – they've got extra speed and thick armour. They can hit light speed faster than those Nubian fighters. I promise you that they're the best you get, better than the cruiser class," a young midshipman tried to convince Shamo of the new ship's credibility. Finally, after many pleas, Shamo consented and boarded the 'Tantive'.
After being briefed on procedures on the Corellian corvette, Shamo retired to the cabin she would be staying in for the duration of the trip to Alderaan. The new hyper speed generator supposedly would cut the time by half to just over one week.
Somehow, to Shamo, the thought that the new ship would be travelling two times faster than she had ever gone before, wasn't overly comforting to her, but she remembered the lessons from her master. She must allow herself to trust the Force and the will of the Force; if it is her time to end, then end she will. The sagacious must learn to avoid expecting the impossible, grieving the irretrievable, and fearing the inevitable.
Shamo chuckled, nearly everyday Revii had said that to her, until one day he went out and bought a small bracelet that had those words engraved into the cloudy silver.
The bracelet was long gone, lost during the siege of the temple.
"Today is your sixteenth birthday, Shamo. What should we do to celebrate," Jedi Knight Revii Aelfhald tussled the hair of his newly awakened apprentice. "I hear there is a good art display being held at the Io Centre. Want to go; I think I might be able to scrounge up a couple of tickets?"
Shamo yawned loudly and stretched her long limbs like a cat.
"I have heard that it's good, but I've also heard that the art is made using various body parts of Nerfs, and the paintings are all Nerf's blood. Not overly appealing to me."
Revii laughed, his deep baritone voice bouncing off the walls and echoing through the apartment. "You sure don't have a stomach for blood – although I seem to remember my friends dragging me to a museum where rotting wampa carcasses were on display in glass cases... I couldn't eat meat for over a year."
Shaking her head, the messy headed padawan frowned at the piece of mystery meat she was about to take a bite of, and set her fork back down onto her plate.
"Thanks, master, you just killed it for me, too."
After pushing away her plate, Shamo propped her feet up on the edge of the table and leaned back in her chair, "so today I'm sixteen... isn't that the legal drinking age for Haltija's on Tirius? Hmm, I think it is!"
Both Jedi laughed.
"Actually, I already bought you a gift, my padawan," Revii smiled and pulled out a black velveteen box. "I figured it might keep me from having to repeat myself over and over so often."
Shamo smiled joyfully and opened the box, gasping as the light bounced off the polished silver. A thin bracelet with a four tiny white gems surrounded a circular green stone.
Revvi grinned at the look on his apprentice's face.
"Read the inscription on the inside of the band."
Gently, Shamo picked up the delicate thing and lovingly read out the words etched in gold.
"A Jedi must learn to avoid expecting the impossible, grieving the irretrievable, and fearing the inevitable."
Shamo looked up at her master and tears came unbidden into her dark green-grey eyes. She jumped up from her chair and ran around the table to give Revii a bear-hug.
"Thank you so much."
The journey passed relatively quickly and uneventfully, the nimble corvette dodged Imperial blockades and made it on time to Alderaan.
Setting down in the Organa family's personal compound, Shamo gathered her things, thanked the crew of the 'Tantive', and made her way to the offices of the head of house Organa, Bail.
The compound was a beautiful sight to behold – the buildings were low and sprawled out across the fields. The grey stone and polished duroglass contrasted one another amazingly, and the oxidized copper roofs added a quaint, ancient touch.
But all this Shamo noticed in just a glance, her years of Jedi training allowing her to see everything and nothing at the same time. Her focus was concentrated on the large spiral palace looming ahead of her, the Royal Tower of Alderaan.
The tower had been built in the ancient days of Alderaan's pre-space history, so long ago that none could discover how old, infact, the stone pinnacle was.
Filled with armouries, libraries, and vaults overflowing with jewels, the Royal Tower was the largest man-made structure on the planet. Until, of course, the booming Commerce Guild built an entire mile-high city of glass in the southern deserts.
Thrusting all thoughts from her mind, Shamo used one of the many Jedi calming techniques and began ascending the marble staircase leading to the entrance.
All seemed well and peaceful, yet for some reason Shamo found her hand drifting down to the hilt of her lightsaber concealed beneath her robes...
I know, I know – In the movies Bail Organa is the senator of Alderaan, as well as the head of house Organa, but for my purposes I'm using the old concept that there were two Bail's; Bail Antilles and Bail Organa.