Inanna Harth
Jedi Knight
It was a crisp, clear morning aboard the Vonnuvi. Inanna sat in her living room, a plate of hot breakfast and a mug of steaming caf on the table in front of her. She balanced her datapad in her lap, the rough draft of a new novel on the screen.
The last twenty or so years had been kind to her - some of the best of her nearly two hundred and twenty five year life. After all the turmoil and grief of the previous decades, it had been hard to accept. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everything that she loved to be ripped away from her. But gradually the fear and paranoia had faded to a background static; always present, but no longer pressing. Somewhere between the safe and sound walls of the herdship and the warm, strong arms of the man she loved, Inanna settled.
She wasn't idle in this idyll. The past decade had been particularly productive: she'd trained students in the ways of the Jedi, expanded her knowledge and skill with the Force, and raised two children. Now that Serena and Ashur had left the nest, she started writing again. Not that she'd ever truly stopped, but she had more time on her hands and plenty of ideas. She typed away in between sips of caf and bites of toast, penning the tale of a heroine named...
A knock on the door interrupted her flow. She glanced up, brow furrowed. They weren't expecting anybody. Cato was in the shower, the muffled sound of his singing audible from down the hall. Inanna stood up and walked over to the door.
The first person she saw upon opening the door was an old man. White haired and smartly dressed, he peered at her through black spectacles. Beside him was a hooded figure. Even after twenty years as a Jedi, Inanna still couldn't sense the aura of a person right in front of her. But still, something about this one seemed familiar...
The last twenty or so years had been kind to her - some of the best of her nearly two hundred and twenty five year life. After all the turmoil and grief of the previous decades, it had been hard to accept. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everything that she loved to be ripped away from her. But gradually the fear and paranoia had faded to a background static; always present, but no longer pressing. Somewhere between the safe and sound walls of the herdship and the warm, strong arms of the man she loved, Inanna settled.
She wasn't idle in this idyll. The past decade had been particularly productive: she'd trained students in the ways of the Jedi, expanded her knowledge and skill with the Force, and raised two children. Now that Serena and Ashur had left the nest, she started writing again. Not that she'd ever truly stopped, but she had more time on her hands and plenty of ideas. She typed away in between sips of caf and bites of toast, penning the tale of a heroine named...
A knock on the door interrupted her flow. She glanced up, brow furrowed. They weren't expecting anybody. Cato was in the shower, the muffled sound of his singing audible from down the hall. Inanna stood up and walked over to the door.
The first person she saw upon opening the door was an old man. White haired and smartly dressed, he peered at her through black spectacles. Beside him was a hooded figure. Even after twenty years as a Jedi, Inanna still couldn't sense the aura of a person right in front of her. But still, something about this one seemed familiar...