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Tython – Arrival at the Cradle of the Jedi
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The Royal Harpy pierced through the cloud cover, revealing the rolling green landscapes and towering mountains of Tython. The planet, long held as a sacred place for the Jedi, carried a sense of tranquility and power, untouched by the corruption that plagued the greater galaxy.
Merah piloted the ship with practiced ease, her fingers dancing over the controls. "I can see why Jedi like this place. Looks like the kind of world that doesn't make you paranoid about getting stabbed in your sleep."
I chuckled, though my mind was elsewhere. Tython wasn't just peaceful—it was ancient. It held memories of past Jedi orders, of training grounds where legendary warriors once honed their skills.
As the ship glided over a lush valley, we caught sight of the Twi'lek colony nestled within the cliffs, their homes seamlessly integrated into the natural rock formations. It was an old settlement, one that had stood for centuries, its people descended from those who had lived here since the time of Satele Shan or before even.
Merah guided the ship down onto a designated landing pad near the outskirts of the colony. The moment the engines powered down, I felt it—a presence, something familiar yet unknown.
Merah flicked a few switches and leaned back. "Alright, boss, we're here. You want to tell me exactly what we're looking for?"
I unfastened my harness. "A girl. Twi'lek. She's supposed to be here."
Merah arched a brow. "That's vague. You got a name?"
I shook my head. "Only a legacy."
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The colony was bustling with life, its people engaged in trade, conversation, and training. Though this wasn't a Jedi settlement, many of the Twi'leks here had some connection to the Force—not as warriors, but as healers, scholars, and artisans who still honored the traditions of the past.
As we walked through the stone pathways, the scent of freshly prepared food and burning incense filled the air. Merah glanced around, her eyes scanning the colony's people. "So, any idea what we say? 'Hey, do you happen to have a descendant of some ancient outlaw-turned-hero around here?'"
I sighed. "We'll have to find someone who knows the old bloodlines. Someone who remembers."
A voice called out to us. "You seek someone lost to time?"
We turned to see an elderly Twi'lek woman, her deep blue skin weathered by age, her lekku wrapped in ceremonial cloth. She stood at the entrance of what appeared to be a communal gathering hall, her piercing gaze locked onto me.
I stepped forward. "We're looking for a young Twi'lek woman. She may have a connection to someone important—someone from long ago."
The elder studied me, then turned her gaze toward the valley. "There is a girl. She has always been different, attuned to things others do not feel. She does not know her history, but it follows her nonetheless."
Merah crossed her arms. "Sounds like a good place to start. Where is she?"
The elder gestured toward the lower village, where the land sloped into a forested basin. "She keeps to herself. But if you seek her, you will find her there."
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The basin was dense with towering trees, their leaves shimmering under the golden light of the twin suns. The colony's structures were left behind, replaced by the quiet hum of nature.
Then I saw her.
She was perched on a fallen log, her blue skin vibrant against the greenery, her lekku adorned with faint, dar blue markings. She was dressed in simple but durable clothes, a satchel slung over one shoulder.
She wasn't meditating, but listening—her head tilted slightly, her hands tracing patterns in the air, as if feeling something unseen.
Merah muttered, "Well, she certainly looks like she belongs here."
I took a step forward. "You can hear it, can't you?"
The girl looked up sharply, her bright blue eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, she was silent.
Then she nodded. "The world sings. It always has."
There was no fear in her voice, only curiosity.
I exhaled slowly. "You have a gift. One that was passed down through generations. Do you know the name Vao?"
She frowned, shaking her head. "No. But... it sounds familiar."
Merah leaned against a tree. "Well, congratulations. You're about to get the history lesson of a lifetime."
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Before I could say anything else, something shifted in the air.
The wind died abruptly. The birds that had been singing moments ago fell silent.
Then, a presence. Cold. Calculated. Watching.
I turned sharply, scanning the treeline. "We're not alone."
Merah's hand went to her blaster. "Yeah. I feel it too."
The girl stiffened, her instincts honed by a lifetime spent in the wilderness. She whispered, "Something is waiting."
And then—
A figure emerged from the shadows, their form completely obscured beneath a black cloak, a featureless mask covering their face.
They did not speak.
But their presence in the Force was undeniable.
I think the problems like me to much.
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