A/N: Have another chapter. Apologies for my erratic style of updating - I really need to work on that. Anyway, thanks to all who have followed/favourited so far...you are very, very much appreciated!
As always, I own nothing except my own headcanons. Please review if you like it!

Embers

2 – Arrivals

3643 BBY - En route to Tython

Ramilla Famir woke with a start, unintentionally hitting her head on the bottom of the bunk above her.

"Ouch," she muttered, rubbing her temple ruefully. In truth, she hated space flight, and the claustrophobic living space that came with it. She lay back down, sighing, and wondered why her dreams had been so occupied with that particular moment of her life recently. Always that same time, watching her parents fade away into the distance, knowing that she would never see them again. The memory itself didn't bother her; she was a Jedi, after all, and knew that such foolish sentimentality would lead to the dark side. It was the memories of her parents that came after that particular one that bothered her: she had tried so hard to repress them during her teenage years, but they kept resurfacing, like a nasty rash.

Perhaps, if she had a Master, she would be able to talk to someone about it. But she did not, which was precisely the reason she found herself in an official Jedi shuttle, heading to Tython.

Yes, she hated space flight. If only it wasn't so damn cramped, she thought, swinging her legs out of her bunk and dressing quietly in the dark. It wasn't like there were lots of people on the ship, invading her personal space (another one of her pet peeves); the shuttle was empty except for the piloting crew and herself. She just found the general atmosphere of ships to be cramped, all tight corners and low ceilings.

Ramilla was just looking forward to not being on a ship, to not have to breathe recycled air and to not have to eat processed, synthetic food for weeks on end. Because it had been weeks; coming from the Outer Rim, there had been no choice in the matter.

She padded quietly out of her room and took a wander up to the cockpit of the shuttle, with the intention of enquiring how much of the journey was left, or see if she could be of any assistance. However, when she approached the door leading to the cockpit, she heard voices in a heated discussion, and decided to linger outside before making her presence known.

"…I don't know about you, Tam, but I find her unnerving. It's creeping me out, having her on board." That was the co-pilot, Jinn. Ramilla had noted that the woman usually went out of her way to avoid her, and had barely spoken two words to her since Ramilla arrived on board.

"Well, it's not as if we have any choice. In case you hadn't noticed, we fly shuttles for the Jedi."

Ramilla recognised the voice of the pilot, Tam. He was the friendlier of the two, but he was still fairly reserved and seemed to keep to himself. When Ramilla was around, anyway.

"Yeah, I get that. I don't mind Jedi. They're an alright bunch, I guess, with their funny weapons and weird religious stuff. It's just – her. She's different. I don't like her."

"You don't like many people, Jinn."

"I know. But she – the girl – I dunno, it just creeps me out. Have you noticed that she never shows any emotion? Like, any? At all? She's just a mask, I can never tell what she's thinking. Most Jedi I've met smile at least. That girl? Nothing. It's not natural, Tam, I'm telling you."

"Well, Jedi aren't supposed to be all emotional, Jinn. That's why they're so good at being diplomatic and neutral about stuff. But…" Ramilla could feel his hesitation through the Force, and it worried her.

"But what?"

"I've been doing this job longer than you have. I've heard rumours about this one. Well, I think it's this one. You can never be sure…"

"Oh, spit it out already! We'll be arriving soon, and then we won't get the chance to gossip."

"Fine. I did hear from another Jedi I was transporting once…"

Ramilla decided that she didn't really want to hear what he was going to say, and stepped forward, the cockpit doors opening with a swish. She could feel the two pilots' surprise through the Force, and it gave her a tiny bit of satisfaction that she had interrupted their gossiping. Nodding respectfully at them, she stepped forward and tried to smile.

"I just came to see how much longer we had to go until we arrive." There. You can't say I didn't try to be friendly.

Jinn merely stared at her with incredulity, while Tam rolled his eyes at his companion and checked the navicomp.

"Another half hour, and then we drop out of hyperspace. Don't worry, you'll be off this ship in no time." He returned her attempt of a smile, and turned back to his piloting. Ramilla took that as her cue to leave, and left the cockpit without another word. She could have pulled rank and reminded them who pays their wages, and how she doesn't deserve their rudeness, but she wasn't that sort of person. Instead, she settled herself into one of the chairs in the communal area, and tried to distract herself from the rumble of the engines coming out of hyperspace by meditating quietly.

The images from her dream swam in front of her; her parents, Onderon, Master Edrim. She'd liked Master Edrim – he was friendly, if a little gruff, and had been a source of comfort in her early days of training. She would have liked to be his apprentice, but he had perished in the Sacking of Coruscant, along with so many others, before she was old enough to become his apprentice.

Ramilla thought back to her first proper Master, a human male of indeterminate age and race who always looked at her coldly, as if she was constantly living below his expectations. Master Gerish had been a fair teacher, and Ramilla had learned much under him, but his apparent belief in the Jedi rule of 'detachment' led to some unfortunate consequences.

The Padawan shook her head, ridding herself of the memories. Breathe, she told herself. There is no emotion. There is only peace.

She repeated the mantra in her head, over and over, until she felt more relaxed again. Well, as relaxed as she could be on board a ship. The rumbling of the engines faded in her ears to a low hum, and she closed her eyes, feeling the Force flow through her. The feeling raised her spirits, and she felt confident enough to push away the disappointed faces of her parents, to let them wash away in a wonderful tide of nothingness that she didn't experience very often. It was…peaceful, for once.

A few minutes later, Ramilla felt herself jolt out of her meditation by a loud and irritated voice over the intercom.

"Approaching Tython now, Jedi. ETA five minutes. Better make sure your stuff's been cleaned out of that bunk, or else you won't see it again."

Ramilla fought the urge to roll her eyes, and went to her cabin to pack away what little possessions she owned: her training saber, a spare set of robes, and various datachips that she'd accumulated from past missions and assignments. She quickly checked her reflection in the refresher, knowing that she probably looked like she had been stuck on a spaceship for three weeks. She adjusted her hairpiece back into place – somehow, it always ended up going squint – and left the 'fresher, making her way down to the departure bay.

The hairpiece was the only thing she carried that suggested she had been something else before she was a Jedi, although to most it was just another accessory. She could be vain and say that she wore the hairpiece because it looked pretty, but in reality it was more than that; she – Ramilla Famir – was a Jedi, first and foremost, and no amount of sentimentality or family values were going to come before that.

"ETA one minute. If I find a lightsaber, I'm keeping it. Just saying."

"Shush, Jinn. Give the girl a break."

Ramilla smiled tightly, feeling her good humour ebb slightly at the comments. She could be a good Jedi, and say that nothing everfazes her but that would be a lie, and Jedi do not lie. Ramilla was not a sensitive soul and could brush off most things, but some harsh comments just hurt, plain and simple.

She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck distractedly. That sort of behaviour was what had denied her Knighthood for so long. Her last master had declared her ready for the trials when she was seventeen, but the Council had expressed concern at her emotional state. Too much emotion, they'd said. Dangerous. Leads to the dark side. Come back when you're at peace, Padawan.

So that's what she had done. She had trained, across the galaxy, honing her lightsaber skills and her meditation skills and tried to scrub every last bit of emotion out of her. It had worked, mostly. Four years, and she knew she was almost ready now. She just needed a new Master to guide her in the right direction. And she certainly wasn't going to let one cruel, ignorant comment get in the way of her future.

"Approaching Tython now. We've just received word that one of the Knights will meet you at the Master's Retreat, so we'll drop you there. Happy hunting, Jedi."

The intercom cut off with a sharp hiss of static, and Ramilla knew she was on her own. Happy hunting, indeed.