Goodbyes

Goodbyes were never easy. That's why she had packed her bags and loaded her ship at the crack of dawn.

She could feel the morning dew on her face, crisp and cold. There was a clarity to her sobriety that surprised her. She had forgotten that the quiet of dawn could be so poignant. It never reached her through the screams of war or the thrill of spice. She took a deep breath in and turned to survey the tall trees of Kashyyyk.

Was it really goodbye if you had never intended to stay?

Yes. This was her home. This was her family. Even if they couldn't help anymore, even if what she needed was somewhere out there. She still cared for them.

Kyra had left them all note. Mom, Dad, siblings, friends, ... Master. She didn't leave them wondering this time. They had coordinates, guaranteed contact, and long overdo explanations. She couldn't learn who she was inside their shadow. Every time she tried, she lost sight of herself even more.

Learning to take care of herself would be a long road, but it started with following her heart and learning to recognize the girl in the mirror. She wasn't A Zeltron, nor was she A Jedi. She was simply Kyra Perl, owner of a ship, a cat, and the occasional nudge of the force.

Her eyes skimmed over her readouts as her ship's engine warmed beneath her. Popsicles jumped precariously onto her lap and let out a meow. Kyra ran her fingers through the feline's fur and spared her a wry look down.

"I know, right. Why are the exciting things always so scary?"

At precisely 5:08 am on the 135th day of 864 ABY, Stingray left the docks of Kashyyyk and set off for an unknown region in hyperspace.