Masters of Destiny

The small freighter Resistance coursed effortlessly through the typical traffic in the Coruscant skies, merging and gliding through lanes of moving craft with directions from the thousands of droids who ran air traffic control over the planet's airspace. The pilot, a man from Yavin named Dra'kal, leaned back, unconcerned with the complexity of travel about the city-planet, a sentiment not shared by his edgy passenger.

"There are buildings everywhere," she murmured, accented voice thick with worry. "Where are the fields? The mountains? The lakes?"

"Gone," Dra'kal answered, hiding a faint smile and glancing to the Maronderan woman behind him. "The whole planet is one large city... rather impressive, don't you think?"

Sinking further into her seat, Abriel'a Dasani sighed, her petite lips pulled in a slight frown. "Rather depressing, if you ask me."

"You'll get used to it."

"Force only knows..."

Conversation trailed off, and her turquoise-silver eyes watched the passing ships and buildings. She trusted Dra'kal, but she couldn't help but feel anxious about her transfer to the Coruscant Jedi Academy after nearly twenty-one years on Dantooine and the Academy there. The change had come at the request of her teacher, Master Dylan Crosston, who insisted that the instruction at the Jedi center would be more beneficial to her.

Abriel'a felt it almost as losing her treasured freedom, but, ever trusting of her teacher's advice, had taken it. Bags packed and lessons completed, she had sought out the highly recommended Dra'kal Jansen, who had been more than willing to carry her along on his route to Coruscant.

The Resistance dislodged from traffic and descended hundreds of feet to a cleared docking ramp below, where Dra'kal made a smooth landing and began to shut down his engines. He turned in his seat and smiled to the Jedi student. "This is your stop." He reached out and gently touched her cheek. "You're braver than this, I know you are. And you're a Jedi already, why the apprehension, angel?"

"An angel needs to fly," Abriel'a murmured as she stood and collected her two bags of personal belongings. "Thank you again, Dra'kal..." Leaning down, she kissed the older man's forehead and offered the brave smile he was looking for, and she disembarked.

Towering statues peaked towards the crowded sky, guarding the grand ground-level entrance to the Jedi Council's esteemed headquarters. She drew a shaky breath, one slim hand shading her eyes as she considered the structure – and future – before her. A slim silver barrel hung at her hip, a small clip on her thigh keeping it from bouncing around as she walked; she unconsciously rested her hand on the hilt of her lightsabre as she continued in towards the building that housed her future classmates, teachers, and elders. Fear does not a warrior make... she thought to herself, and with a resolved breath, she set her jaw and entered the building.

Stares followed her as she made her way through the corridors, carrying orders to announce her presence in the Jedi Temple. Abriel'a knew she should be used to it; after all, very few of the galaxy's species were as dramatically noticeable as the beautiful and exotic winged people from Marondera, in the heart of the distant Auril system. She almost self-consciously wanted to tuck her tall, slim wings against her back, but instead displayed them prominently, though without becoming an obstruction to those in the marbled halls. They were brilliant, the thin turquoise skin arching almost two feet above her head to graceful, curved points. From her back, they also fell behind her, tips just a breath higher than the ground and trailing like the great tails of a noblewoman's petticoat. Translucent, they were like the fine, silky material on an insect's wing, almost invisibly veined, but with a metallic silver sheen that sparkled with the light. Matching eyes traveled about the rooms and archways the young Jedi passed, seeing students in classes or at study in lounges. Many looked up as she went by.

Her garb was simple, but efficient. Replacing the traditional beige and tan robes was a slim white lace-up blouse that adorned her contoured form, sleeveless and with modified slits in the back to allow for her wings. She wore khaki leggings that ended mid-calf, held to her tiny waist by a heavy brown leather belt upon which her lightsabre hung. Most interestingly enough, however, she was barefoot.

In the outer courts of the Jedi Temple, Abriel'a waited, watching the men, women, and creatures that entered and exited the inner sanctum at the direction of the Council within. She left her bags with an attendant droid and tended to her flowing strawberry blond hair, fighting a few errant locks that continued to fall over her eyes.

A boy of three or four left the chambers, followed by an older gentleman, and the Jedi Master paused, resting a weathered hand on Abriel'a's bare shoulder. "It is your turn, young Dasani." He smiled, and then she recognized him; Jollai Darklighter, from Tatooine. He had been to the Dantooine Academy several times before returning to Coruscant, where his Padawan lived and trained. The boy must be Venical Dranalie, she thought; Jollai had mentioned Vennie several times during his lectures on Force communication.

"Thank you, Master," Abriel'a bowed her head, and then entered the cathedral-like room that housed the Jedi Council of Coruscant. She stood in the center, facing the highest of the elders, Masters Yoda, Windu, and Ki. When the doors had shut, she folded her arms at her side and bowed deeply at the waist, fanning her wings to their full span before collecting them again as she stood; it was the highest display of respect in Maronderan culture, which she was pleased to learn, two decades previous, was the standard greeting for Jedi.

"Well your studies go," Master Yoda greeted, his tiny hands folded together around the head of his gnarled cane. He inclined it towards the student slightly. "Great things Master Crosston had to say."

"Thank you, Master," Abriel'a replied gently, her Basic accented. She looked over as Master Ki-Adi-Mundi began to speak.

"Do you know why you were transferred to Coruscant, Miss Dasani?" the Cerean asked, stroking his long, white beard.

She blinked her large turquoise eyes, replying without hesitation. "Master Crosston believed my training would be more efficient under instruction here, sir."

Silent looks passed between the Jedi around the circular room, some of which Abriel'a could hardly see but silhouettes against the setting sun out the large windows. It was a long, pregnant pause before Mace Windu spoke up. "Abriel'a, you are among the select of the Jedi. Despite your excellent position as a training Blademaster and your potential as a future Knight, there is more to your destiny."

"My destiny?" Abby asked, looking curiously about the Masters before her. "In what way?"

"Your tattoo," Adi Gallia murmured, inclining her head. The gentle, pale tentacles adorning her headdress shifted with the movement, framing her smooth face. "Do you know what the symbols mean, Daughter of Kenta'ani?"

Abriel'a was shocked at the mention of her father, and she quickly enveloped herself in the Force to keep her emotions calm and cool. "It is the symbol of the Dasani family... the emblem of the Blademasters." She could not help but gently touch the dark blue tattoo on her upper right arm; a lightsabre and an ancient sword, the blades crossing to an 'x,' with a crescent moon opening downward to the tips of the weapons. In the side and bottom corners of the cross were stars of four-points.

"And do you remember receiving the mark?" Windu again.

Falling back on her thoughts, Abriel'a shook her head. "I was very young," she admitted.

"But you do not remember?"

"No, sir."

More looks, this time. Abriel'a would have been anxious about the silence, but she knew that the Council was speaking telepathically. Telepathy was one of her worst Force-abilities, second only to Force Healing.

"Born with tattoo, you were. Marked by the Force, you are," Yoda finally announced, breaking the silence but leaving an equally heavy void after his words.

Now, every eye was on the winged student, and Abriel'a stared openly at the small Jedi Master who had spoken. "Impossible..." she whispered.

Ki added, "But true."

"What does it mean?" Abriel'a asked, her eyes wide.

This was it. Master Windu held up a dark hand, motioning to her. "That you are a Sailor Senshi Jedi, Abriel'a Dasani. Your Force abilities as a Jedi Warrior make no mistake about your Destiny. It is sealed."

"Auril, you serve," Yoda confirmed with a curt nod.

"Forgive me, Masters, but I am a servant to the Force," Abriel'a interjected. How could this be true? She'd heard of the Sailor Jedi, and had honestly harbored ill feelings to the grouping of so-called warriors. To her disciplined upbringing, they seemed like young girls flitting about the universe, ill equipped to battle Sith or the dark forces that worked against Justice, Honor, and Truth.

"It does not suit you to think less of those you are a part of," Ki said; his binary mind easily picked up Abriel'a's thoughts.

A shaky breath escaped the Maronderan's lips, and she gently sank to her knees on the cool marble, sitting on her heels. She rested her hands on her thighs and looked down. Did the Council expect her to abandon her training as a Jedi? As a Blademaster? Would she have to trade in her robes for the bright-skirted outfits that the Senshi wore?

"I don't want this," she whispered, fighting tears. The strength she drew from the Force seemed unreachable for the moment. She did not hear him, but was surprised when Yoda placed a small hand on the top of her bowed head.

"Want this, you may not, but be this, you are," he said firmly but with the soft care of one whom understood the difficulty she was having in these new revelations. "Great, great honor this is, Abriel'a Dasani. Proud the Council is. Proud your father would be." He removed his hand, and she looked up to his face, a single crystalline tear on her tanned cheek. "Go, rest yourself. May the Force be with you."

Abriel'a nodded, standing. She bowed once more to the Council before leaving the chambers and collecting her bags from the attendant droid. It directed her to her new home, and with a heavy heart, the Jedi student headed for the Room of a Thousand Waterfalls. Freedom, goodbye... she thought sadly, feeling for all the universe like her wings had been tied, in more ways than one.