User blog:Bane7670/A Larger World


 * Munificent-class frigate Bounty, Pickerin system, 4 BBY

The Bounty drifted through the tranquil void of space like a stray rock propelled into space after an asteroid collision, once a piece of a greater stone but now floating derelict with no certain direction or destination. Unlike asteroids, Gram Alnin reflected, this rock carries a couple hundred lives in a specific direction. But are we still going anywhere?

His wrist comm chirped. "Commander Edant," the voice said. "Chieftain Nalia requests your presence on the bridge. She wants you there when we arrive at the coordinates we were provided."

"I'm on my way," Gram replied, turning away from the wide view of his cabin's viewport. The vast blue and white nebula that sat on the edge of the Pickerin system would mask their approach from Imperial scanners, which was why he had chosen this route. We stand a better chance that way, whatever our chances are.

He shook the doubts away and went to the door. Securing his Mandalorian vambraces on his forearms, he pressed the door control and walked at a brisk pace down the hall towards the turbolift. The warm golden lighting the Ming Po had renovated was a nice change of pace from the frigate's original dark green atmosphere. It was just one of the many small charms their ship had to offer. Gram cherished each and every one. Each was a testament to all the work that had gone into getting this ship off the ground, literally and figuratively; a testament to cooperation for a common goal.

Gram's reflections were shattered when he passed one of the crew members, who gave him a smiling salute. "Hello, sir," she greeted cheerfully, her facial markings arching with her cheekbones.

Gram politely returned her salute with a nod, even if the gesture made his stomach churn. After all these years, he'd settled back into a command role a little too easily. It didn't keep him awake at night, but every so often he fell back into a pattern of thinking... more like lamenting on how he was now commanding battles when he should have been living a quiet life in peace. It had all changed so quickly, though he knew it wasn't the first time, and he'd been forced to adapt back into a leadership role. It wasn't that he minded leading others. What troubled him most was the direction in which he'd led them. Like the Jedi Order before him, he blindly accepted his hand in a conflict he had no right to command.

The Ming Po, once a simplistic society now turned into bold defenders, had joined the fight willingly and served valiantly, but if Gram had known that he'd be the one to rally them into fighting the Empire, he'd have left Carlac years ago, found some other remote planet to hide on. It pained him to even think that, though. He couldn't possibly regret the friendships he'd formed with the Ming Po villagers among the other resistance fighters that had joined his crew. They welcomed him in as family and deeply trusted in his counsel. All the more reason to have second thoughts about training them in combat and leading them into firefights.

That sounded a lot like the last family he'd known, with the last leadership role he'd settled comfortably into, in the last war he'd fought. Now how will this one end?

Gram reached the turbolift and pressed the button to the bridge. He shared it with three others, all of them he'd known from Carlac since they were young, innocent villagers on a peaceful planet. They nodded reverently, as friends, Gram supposed. It didn't change the fact that they were taking up arms when they should have been tending their fields. When the turbolift reached the bridge, they let Gram exit first. He stepped through the doors and onto the bridge, where Chieftain Nalia stood at the helm. "Edant," she greeted. "Glad you could make it. We've arrived at the coordinates Fulcrum marked in this system. The Imperial transfer station is in our scopes. Your move from here."

"Very good," Gram said, clearing his throat. "Prepare to advance further into the system."

As a Jedi, he was a peacekeeper, a guardian. He wasn't sure what part of that made him a soldier, but again swept those thoughts aside. He had a duty to these people. For now, that was enough.

* * * * *
 * 3,636 YEARS EARLIER

The planet Tython jumped into view as the stars phased back into the rightful positions. The shuttle lurched, returning to sublight thrusters, and angled on approach toward its destination. Tython looked as serene from space as its holos in the Temple. Ijaat Alnin used his training to quell his excitement at this next step in his padawan career. Here he would hone his skills and deepen his connection to the Force as a guardian of the Republic. He knew that the Force worked in mysterious ways and trusted it to guide him down his path towards knighthood.

He'd learned so much already, and yet an entire galaxy awaited beyond that. He intended to face whatever stood in his way head on and stand with all those around him with confidence that this path would shape him into the Jedi he was meant to be. Again, his training reminded him to stay focused. One step at a time.