‹ Prequel: The Hidden Truth
Sequel: A Last Good Bye

Reaching Through Darkness

Exciting future, depressing past

Reaching through Darkness
Sequel to The Hidden Secret

Adventure: It wasn't something a Jedi craved, daydreamed, or furiously worked to make happen. Yet, here I was, on a ship in hyperspace, sailing through space and time to a planet that was full of adventure and I loved and craved it. I loved the excitement, the unknown events waiting to happen, the real danger, and the speed of a trip. I was a veteran traveler who knew that adventure was not all thrills and included late or missed meals, sickness, lack of sleep, and the dull moments that were in all trips. I knew all there was to know about travel, like travel days.

Travel days were guaranteed to bore anyone to sleep and make them wish they were back home doing something useful and vaguely exciting with their life rather than do the tedious job of sitting in a cramped seat in a cramped ship, next to an equally cramped, unentertaining Jedi Master named Mirmo. I had to admit that at least I did not have to sit the whole time or sleep in that chair like I might have done back on my home planet which was far backwards and unknown to the rest of the galaxy. The small ship contained a compartment of one bed in the back, a tiny galley of one burner with one pot to cook, a tiny sink to clean everything, including myself and my master, and a tiny cupboard to store protein bars which I quickly grew to hate.

Travel days were also a logical must in order to have an adventure. There was no possible way to get from point A to point B without the weariness of travel unless one knew the secrets of teleportation and I was mentally working on the physics of that. I forced my addicted to depression mind to look for something positive about where I was and what I was doing. There was one nice point about travel. It gave me plenty of time to reflect on my past life on my home planet compared to my life now and how I had changed, and more importantly the relationship between me and the man sitting next to me.

Master Mirmo was my one true and beloved master who took me on six months during my first scary meeting with the council. It was funny to say, but I was starting to believe that Mirmo loved me as his apprentice. I think he saw me as the daughter he never and will never have. I wanted to say deep in his heart he loved me the way I had grown up to believe is right and true; somehow I couldn't see this feeling in him. He might have been sitting half an arm's length away, but it felt like he was galaxies further. My natural emotional hungry heart reached out to him, for his strength, support, and wisdom. All I got was coldness, like a turned back, wondering eyes and a blank, unreadable face that evaded the best my scanning abilities could produce. This distance hurt me because I knew I had hurt him. He had said in front of the council he had forgave me and asked me to accept his apologize. It seemed now he had forgotten those easy words and withdrawn from all around him.

The worst part of sitting in that small, cold metal chair was my mind wouldn't leave the past. Again and again, I saw myself run through the jungle, look into the misleading eyes of my role model, hearing the words that stung so clearly with truth, and when I felt I was done and had won, see the feelings and thoughts of my master as he picked up and carried me back home. I thought I was done with this pain and this past haunting me. I had found my inner child as some would say. I had started to genuinely heal myself, something even Mirmo couldn't get me to do. Did my master not see this process begin? If he did, then why did he stop caring for me? Why didn't he talk to me? He said we had much to talk about and now would be the perfect time to talk. He begged so many questions in this awkward silence. There was so much confusion in the air, I felt like I could reach out and touch it with my fingers.

I looked over my right shoulder to peer at Mirmo. His body posture was relaxed, forming to the ridge chair. His face was composed when he meditated. I noticed his eye lids weren't moving, which told me he was not asleep and therefore was doing his customary meditation that he was so fond of doing. I moved in my chair, dying to get up and stretch, but I didn't dare it. With our relationship being so rocky and traveling a path I knew nothing about how to navigate, it was better I didn't disturb him and end up annoying him. I stretched what little I could by flexing my legs and arching my back to get the kinks out, but that did nothing to relieve my restlessness. My eyes turned away from his peaceful outward look and glazed out the small window of the front of the ship. Billions of streaks that I had to guess were stars zoomed pass the window. The space between the streaks was the blackest black I had ever seen. The view was gorgeous to me who had never seen space. My trip to the Jedi academy on Yavin Four from my home planet was spent asleep or eating, so this was the first time I had ever seen space with my own two eyes.

Again, I forced myself to think of something else, something cheerful. I allowed myself the brief joyous feeling of where we were going which was the biggest city ever made. In my travel, I had been to a fair amount of cities. My house was about an hour away from the capital of the area I lived. I had learned that big, important cities where not all what people made them, which was of two ideas. The first idea that cities where a place of unlimited wealth, with the streets paved in gold, everyone was dressed in unspeakable riches, and smiles where to be seen everywhere. The second impression everyone had about cities who didn't live in or near one, was that cities where the most dangerous places to live. If you weren't mugged on the street during broad daylight, raped during the night, and then shot and never found again, you were most likely going to die of poverty and some hideous disease. In my experience, cities were not just one or the other, but had a bit of both and then more.

A sigh escaped past my mouth with a twitch of my body. Impatience and worry made me restless. I stared out in the dark nothingness that our ship soared through, hoping the trip was over soon. It hurt so much to sit next to a stranger.