Private Dreams of Our Generation

[Amani Serys]

16 Years Ago
Kashyyyk​

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Amani was barely into her first years as a proper padawan of the Silver Jedi Order, but the promise she showed in both conviction and raw potency had put her on the radar of one Master Niwa.

Niwa was an Ithorian healer, well-immersed in the symbiotic balance between sapient life and the natural world that surrounded them. Her people were revered for their harmonious ways, and Niwa was no exception; If anything, she epitomized this concept better than most. Amani could not have hoped for a better mentor, even if a true apprenticeship could never take place.

“Very good, young one,” Niwa spoke in low, stereo rumblings, “This plant is nourished. Healthy. One day, it shall grow into a great and mighty tree.”

She finished her observation of the sapling, and stood up. The young Amani mirrored her, gaze ever-shifting between the Ithorian and the patch of soil, “You really think so?” She asked, envisioning a trunk that stretched up to the clouds.

“I do!” Niwa nodded, her large eyes shimmering with pride, “Kashyyyk’s ecosystem is vibrant and nurturing, especially with caretakers such as yourself. It reminds me of my own homeworld,” The master’s gaze drifted to the sky in silent reverie.

“...What is your homeworld, Master?” Amani spoke up after a pregnant pause.

Niwa blinked back into the present, and chuckled deeply, “Ithor. It is a jungle of unspoiled beauty, teeming with life,” Despite her limitedly expressive muscles, she seemed to smile, “Would you believe that I’ve never been there?”

The padawan cocked her head, “...But… It’s your homeworld?”

“Technically, I was born above Ithor. In a herd city. When I said the world’s beauty was unspoiled, I meant it. My people built great ships on which to host our civilization, so that the nature below could grow freely. Few are allowed to touch the native soil, and those who do, often remain down there for the rest of their lives.”

“Woooow,” Amani cooed, fascinated by the imagery already building within her mind, “So you lived on one?”

“Yes. My home was a ship called the Vonnuvi. It traveled all across the galaxy, trading with each world they passed by, and offering shelter to those without,” Niwa turned around and waved a hand, gesturing for the young padawan to follow, “I think you would like it. Our ships are decorated with plant life, and even have domes built inside to house an array of biomes. Perhaps I could show it to you one day.”

Amani beamed, jumping up and down enthusiastically, “I’d love to! Please?”

The Ithorian chuckled sonorously, "Very well, young one. I'll see if I can contact Gillom. He's the ship's Elder, and a dear friend of mine. He'd be happy to meet you," Her words echoed with a layer of unspoken history, "And he’d tell you that, should you ever find yourself lost, that the Vonnuvi may be your second home.”

 

[Amani Serys]

6 Years Ago​

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"Sorry! Sorry! Excuse me! Sorry!" Amani never had to navigate a crowd of such stature before. She wasn't exactly tall in most circles, but nearly everyone here decidedly was. Ithorians, unsurprisingly, made up a notable percent of the population on an Ithorian herdship. At least here, on the Vonnuvi, there was an offset of refugee immigrants to keep Amani from being the lone odd duck.

"Two minutes now, Nurse Serys." A hovering droid spoke in a conversational tone.

"I know! You don't have to keep telling me!" The mirialan about pushed her way through a door, before it slid open, making her stumble awkwardly into a waiting room. While she caught her breath, the droid navigated over to robed figure. It was another Ithorian, old and wispy haired, with wrinkled greenish-brown skin. This was Gillom Rone, the Elder of the herdship.

Gillom spoke in his native tongue, while the droid's voice trailed just behind, translating it into Basic, "Nurse Serys. How pleasant of you to join us."

"You wouldn't believe the foot traffic."

"Oh hoh, I think I would. Do not fret, Amani, you have arrived just in time."

"No sir, no fretting here."

"Good. So, you read the report, yes?"

"Mhm. Should be simple enough."

"Simple, eh? Your confidence is encouraging." The Elder turned around and began to move, with a gnarled old walking stick out in front of him. In contrast to her own words, Amani swallowed nervously, before joining him down the hall. Like the rest of the Vonnuvi, this hospital seamlessly integrated technological efficiency with natural aesthetic. In the future, it would serve as a font of inspiration for some of Amani's redesigns in the Halls of Healing. But for now, the Jedi were far from her train of thought.

Gillom led her to an exam room where a young Ithorian had his arm resting on a pillow. Amani approached with a smile, and pulled up a stool, so that she might begin examining the injury. His forearm was swollen, bruised, and tender to the touch. The young boy winced under the slight pressure of her fingers. Amani nodded, "Yep. Pretty much what I expected. Greenstick fracture, pretty common in near-human kids as well. With a cast it'll heal good as new."

"Indeed. But... there are ways to expedite that process further, no?"

She nodded slowly, mentally preparing herself, "There are," Amani held out her palm to the injury, and shut her eyes. Tentatively, Gillom approached and studied the technique. The patient looked back and forth between them in curious anticipation. But try as she might, there was no extension of Amani's aura reaching out. Her force connection remained severed. Amani gasped in irritation, only dropping her focus as she felt Gillom's hand rest on her shoulder. The Elder then reached out himself, and began to mend the boy's broken bone. Amani defeatedly applied a cast to help with the remaining natural process, and stepped outside while Gillom and the boy exchanged words in Ithorese.

Soon after, Gillom found her leaning over a balcony, staring at the nearby artificial lake. A family was picnicking on the grass beside it. Chiss refugees, no doubt looking for a bit of peace in their new home, "Still the same, I reckon?" He spoke up gently.

"Still the same," Amani sighed, not quite looking back at him. Gillom came closer, posting up alongside the railing himself.

"Do not be so harsh on yourself, Amani. You are a talented medic. With, or without, the Force." She smiled thinly, but said nothing. Gillom let the silence linger for few moments, before he spoke again, "The last time I spoke to Niwa, before she passed, she spoke about you."

"I remember. You told me when I first got here." Amani never got the chance to see the Vonnuvi in her padawan years. Niwa died during the Brynadul War, before they could ever make the trip. It wasn't until a couple months ago, that the healer found her opportunity for that second home.

"She wasn't raving to me about your ability to move things with your mind. Your ability to repair flesh and bone with a thought. She admired your compassion. Your strength of character. Your dedication to helping others, no matter what," Amani looked up at him now, with full attention, "That hasn't left you."

"We'll keep practicing. Keep trying to pull that Force connection back. But either way, there are people out there who need your help. And you can help them."

Amani pursed her lips and watched the refugee family a while longer. Then, she gave a single nod, "…Okay. Let's try again, then."

 

[Amani Serys]

One Month After the Battle of Exegol​

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Amani took a deep breath as she stepped onto the Vonnuvi. Fresh was not a word usually used to described the air on a spaceship, but here, it felt oddly accurate. The natural ecosystems fostered on the herdship created an experience unlike any other. This was the first time she had been here in years, having left to offer her services to the wider galaxy after a few months of living on board.

Much had changed since then.

Amani made her way to the administrative sector of the ship, soon finding herself at the office of the ship's captain, "Gillom Rone?" She asked excitedly.

A tall Ithorian at a desk stood up slowly and spun around. He raised his hands and bellowed deeply. A small droid appeared over his shoulder, and translated "Amani! What a welcome sight!" The two healers embraced, and a sensation struck the elder among them, "…Amani? Is that…?"

She stepped back, and nodded, "I've been quite busy since we last spoke." Her aura, her presence in the Force, resonated between them. Gillom made an indiscernible noise of approval.

"Amazing! Simply amazing. Please, tell me everything."

---

The two strolled through the inner city and into one of the central geodesic dome; A sampling of Ithor's very own Mother Jungle. An array of verdant plant life decorated the space, and the ambiance of chittering insects and singing birds filled in the silence. She told him of her work on Lamaredd, and other worlds across the Outer Rim. She told him of her continued efforts to regain her Force connection, and the assistance she found in the New Jedi Order. A new home and purpose. And last, but most certainly not least, she told him about her discovery of love. Her husband, and their wedding.

"I would have gladly invited you, if I had a way to contact you. Or, if I knew where the Vonnuvi had been," Amani chuckled sheepishly. There simply hadn't been enough time, with everything else going on.

"It is alright, Amani. I am truly happy for you," Gillom assured, "Perhaps we ought to establish a better line of communication in the future though, hm?" A laugh.

"I agree," Amani paused, "And actually… I might have an idea for that," Well, she would still give him her holonumber, but this particular idea was much bigger.

Gillom cocked his large head to the side, "Oh? Well by all means, do share."

"I presume you still intend to take your ship through the downtrodden corners of the galaxy? The Outer Rim? Scar Worlds?"

"As the Vonnuvi always has."

"And I take it you've already heard about the dissolution of the Maw's territory?"

"Likely there as well. Who hasn't?"

"Right. Well now that the war isn't taking all of our time, I believe many Jedi will turn their attention to the wider galaxy. Towards new opportunities to help. But with our headquarters in the Core, organizing a more concentrated effort outside Alliance space isn't always easy."

Gillom slowed, and squinted his eyes, getting a sense of what Amani might be building up to, "…I'm listening."

The mirialan smiled, "If you have the space. And if you think it would be a worthwhile investment… I was thinking the construction of a Jedi Enclave here, on the Vonnuvi, would be a great opportunity to expand our efforts," She waited a moment, and having not been immediately shut down, continued, "Think of it like an outreach program. A mobile base for Jedi to reach more people in need. Here, they would have access to an entire city, traveling the exact sort of places they would be trying to go in the first place. Not to mention, they can assist in your own relief efforts, and help keep the Vonnuvi safe… What do you think?"

Gillom stroked his beard, and hummed low in contemplation, "…You would vouch for these Jedi?"

"I would. I am a member of the Council, after all."

The Ithorian chuckled, "True enough… I would consider it. Both our people could indeed benefit from such an agreement," Despite the moderate, diplomatic nature of his words, there was an underlying sense of agreement in his words. Especially as he continued, developing the idea further, "We would have space for such a construction in the administrative sector, I think. Easy access to the main city. A private docking bay, perhaps?"

"Oh~ Really pulling out all the stops, huh?" Amani grinned broadly. There would be some logistics to work out, but Gillom seemed fully on-board with the concept.

There was a gap of silence that lingered, before he placed his hand on her shoulder, "…Niwa would be proud of you."

The mirialan nodded slowly, "…I like to think so."

"I know so," Gillom interjected, "And I'm proud of you too, for what it is worth." After another pause, he tapped his cane on the ground, and spun back towards the exit, "You know, we plan to make a stop by Coruscant before we set out east. Perhaps that would be a good time to engage in something of a cultural exchange. Let our people get to know each other."

"I think I'd like that. I'll see if I can make it work."

"Come, then. In the meantime, let us see if we can't put some of these thoughts to paper."

End.​