A Letter from Commander Rowan Ee'everwest to Lady Amidia Ee'everwest
Dearest Mother,
The stars look different out here. Colder, somehow, brighter, but without warmth. It's difficult to explain unless you've stood on a command deck and watched unfamiliar constellations blink back at you from the edge of Republic space. We're well past the old shipping lanes now, stationed near Loronar aboard the HRNV Judgement. She's no flagship, but she holds a silence I find... comfortable.
There are whispers on board. Low murmurings over mess tables and under the hum of engine maintenance bays. Some say the Senate is preparing to push further east, to stake presence, to patrol, to draw a line in the galactic dust and dare someone to cross it. Others claim it's all just political saber-rattling. But the officers feel it, too. We're not just patrolling, we're watching. Waiting. Every resupply from central command comes with vaguer orders and tighter lips.
The crew is steady, but uneasy. I find myself repeating lessons from the Basilica during watch. Old prayers for clarity. For courage. For the kind of peace that doesn't require the word "enforced."
I still hope to be home soon. The Velisia leaves bloom in a few weeks, don't they? I remember the way you used to press them between your books. I know you'd prefer me closer to the Basilica gardens, away from hyperspace routes and border tensions. But Mother, I believe there's a kind of worship in service too... out here, protecting what peace we still possess.
I'll write again when we leave Loronar, if we do. I suspect we'll be here longer than command admits.
With faith, always,
Rowan
Commander, Expeditionary Fleet
Royal Naboo Navy
