Ambrose Skywalker always used to gaze up the night sky counting the stars dreaming about what must be beyond this massive sandpit of a planet he called home. Until one day, he gets dragged along on an adventure of a lifetime.
Trying to stay one wit...
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─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───
Ten years have passed, but the galaxy has become unbalanced for the last few years, with thousands of systems declaring their intentions to leave the Galactic Republic. It had left the Jedi more sparse than ever in previous years. Jedi Knights, Masters and padawans stretched to keep peace and order across the galaxy. But we were few in our numbers and could only achieve so much. That was because much more mature and dependable padawans like myself could do such missions independently. For example, I had been tasked with escorting Senator Amidala, or Padmé as I knew her, back to Coruscant. Given her previous position as Queen of Naboo, the current political climate made it potentially dangerous for her to travel without protection.
It was strange to stand in this hangar again after all these years. Yet this time, with no gunfire or fighting. It was a distant echo of a memory I could only hear as I briefly shut my eyes. Yet there was only a calmness in the air as pilots did pre-flight checks, plus the regular hustle and bustle in a flight hanger. It brought some ease after the other hostile places I had visited in the galaxy. But to be among people I know and dear friends brought a sense of relief from within, and I hope my mission will go smoothly.
Yet for the first time in years, I prayed for the comfort of my Jedi robes. But currently wore the stiff, sturdy yet restrictive fabrics and leather of a Naboo fighter pilot uniform. Leather that I had since gotten used to wearing as a belt and boots. The collar was high and stiff, having to roll my neck to loosen it a little, but it did little to relieve my discomfort. Adjusting the bottom of my leather tunic, I spot a figure dressed in traditional Jedi garb, their hood drawn over their head to conceal their face-a long thin fake dark brunette padawan braid peeking out with various coloured bands. The figure was a fighter pilot who had volunteered to be me. He stood beside that of Cordé dressed in all the finery like any politician from that of Naboo disguised as Padmé.
"Is me having a decoy necessary?" I called into question with a frown as I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea.
"Nonsense, of course, it is," Padmé replied from beside me, wearing a uniform identical to mine as our decoys boarded the familiar shining Nubian ship. I glanced down and over at her with an even look.
"I have a sworn obligation to put my mission before my own life," I point out to her, "But not for someone's putting their own life on the line for me."
