Star Wars- A Jedi's Journey One: The Padawan's Struggle

Chapter Five

Curra Swift, shortly before the Padawan tournament

The Jedi Knight, Curra Swift, stood on the bridge of his cruiser. Clone troopers were communicating around him, preparing to exit hyperspace. They were getting close to Coruscant, the planet, which Curra considered home. His arms were crossed, and his feet were further than a shoulder length apart and firmly planted on the ground. His commanding stance. He had already reported back to the council about his mission, which had been to defeat one of the separatists- their opponents in this war- 's offensive outpost. This would give the Jedi general and his troopers time to rest. Rest would mean less chance of high casualties. Fewer casualties meant a higher rate of successful missions. The General had a streak of successful missions with almost unbelievably few casualties, and he wasn't about to break that record. Curra smiled to himself. When Curra's troopers saw his facial expression, they would likely find it weird. General Swift rarely smiled. The mission had been yet another success on his part. The plan had been executed perfectly. He had gotten schematics on the outpost and maps of its surroundings, before planning the attack. The landscape around the building had presented an advantage for an attacker, which the outpost didn't seem to have realized. Coming in at a specific angle had led the battalion, Swift had brought with him, to an easy victory. The separatists hadn't been able to hold them off. Having had no particularly skillful warrior- or leader for that matter- among the droids hadn't exactly helped them. There were no living people in the outpost. Only droids. The seperatists aren't stupid. They may have deliberately built that base on a Republic world, but they wouldn't waste more than droids just to check our reaction time, Curra thought. Clever move, but not an original or creative one. In Curra's opinion, it had taken The Republic too long to eradicate the droids on the base. There were at least three hundred droids. Fortunately, as The General had brought 576 soldiers, they had cleared the droids relatively quickly. A clone's steps echoed in the room. Curra knew the difference between the sound of his officers' shoes and the clones' armored shoes. Instead of looking over his shoulder, Curra spoke. He knew exactly which clone would be approaching him. "Captain Jack, report". The clone had gotten his nickname long ago when he had used an axe to cut a tree. Clones usually had four digits for name, but understandingly preferred to use their nicknames. The captain saluted his general. "We are about to exit hyperspace, general". Curra nodded at the captain and looked out the massive windows in front of him. Slowly, the blending stripes of light and dark came to a halt. Coruscant, the city, and the planet, both in one, slowly came into view. Curra watched, as they approached. "Prepare to descend", he ordered. He wasn't patient, and couldn't wait to get into his chambers. Technically, he didn't have to stand on the bridge. He could let his officers take control and rest in his onboard chambers. The officers knew what to do, but in General Swift's eyes, a strong leader stayed 'til the very end. If they were to be attacked, he had to be there. Although the officers were educated and eligible for their jobs, The General had given a few lessons every now and then, when he had started working with them. But The General had not taught a single one of them for a while. Only slight adjustments of their work, which The General had thought necessary. A Padawan could be a potential student of such lessons, and the council had tried to convince The Jedi Knight to get a Padawan. Teaching a Padawan, an apprentice, was a privilege - which Curra Swift agreed on. Alas, since he didn't have a Padawan anymore, Curra wasn't obliged to teach anybody. Not even his captain had gotten a lesson since. Curra trusted his officers to do their jobs, because he had once taught them what they needed to know, if they had lacked that knowledge upon starting to serve under him. The clones didn't lack that knowledge, which was, amongst other things, partially the reason why he didn't teach anymore. Since he stopped teaching, he had been able to devote more time to planning, which led to better plans, fewer casualties. Fewer deaths. The General stepped forward, as Coruscant came closer. He walked over to one of his troopers. The trooper took care of communications with their allies on Coruscant. "We have been granted permission to land on the western platform", the trooper spoke. "Send the coordinates to our helmsmen", The General ordered. The officer completed the tasks, before looking at The General once more. "Awaiting your permission, general", the trooper said. The General sighed, before switching on his communicator. Talks from different channels on their communications system rose from his bracelet. He switched channels, until he was set to the medical bay's channel. "Are all injured ready for transport?", The General asked. Every voice on the medical bay's channel silenced. There were a few injured, and only 3 critically injured, but the medics' channel was never silent unless he called. They were always communicating with each other. Otherwise, their work would be unsuccessful and insufficient. The General knew his medical chief was competent enough to have already done what he would request of the medical team before he had even asked. The General wasn't very experienced with the art of medicine, but he was particularly good at demanding respect, as he had realized, it was one of the best ways to help make his subordinates' work more efficient. "Ready when you are sir", the medical chief said. "Position the injured in the hangar. Prepare for exit", The General ordered. "As usual sir. We are already in place", the medical chief replied. The General switched off his communicator, before addressing everyone on the bridge. "Prepare to land". When The General had gotten several nods of acknowledgement from the officers on the bridge, he turned on his communicator again. This time, The General adjusted his communicator, until he was set to the channel of the whole ship. His next message would sound from every speaker and communications-channel on the ship, a Venator, which was currently housing only ⅕ of the troops, The General had under his command. "We are approaching Coruscant. Brace for touchdown". The General himself didn't sit down or grab anything to steady himself. In truth, his message to 'brace for touchdown' was not meant to provoke action. The General mostly said it for reasons he had a hard time explaining. A formality. Politeness, maybe? Perhaps, it could actually be interpreted as an act of kindness towards those, whose legs weren't sturdy enough to keep them standing without support. The ship was built in such a smart way that jumping in and out of hyperspace was hardly noticeable, which made landings a walk in the park. An odd advantage from flying a military ship, The General thought. When exiting hyperspace, a ship would have to stop traveling at lightspeed- traveling at lightspeed was the only way to enter and travel in hyperspace, so, naturally, slowing down from lightspeed was the way to dissenter. The ship, a Venator, was built with stabilizers, which would prevent the ship from shaking too much when exiting and entering hyperspace. The soldiers aboard were all used to the slight shaking, and as such, their work wouldn't be interrupted by it. As the ship touched down, The General was hit by the fatigue from the battle. Almost immediately upon landing, The General received a call on his communicator. Curra Swift sighed heavily. He already knew who would be calling him, and what it would be about. The General quickly strode out of the control room and down the hall to his personal quarters before accepting the call. The General thought the call to be too personal to have in the middle of a group of officers. "Hello Lon", Curra Swift greeted his old friend as he picked up, while striding down the hallway to his quarters. General Swift's voice was perfectly neutral. "Took you a while, Curra", Jedi Master Lon Drime smirked, and Curra Swift could tell- just by listening to the audio. Curra hadn't bothered to switch on his holo communicator, which was standing right by his bed. "I was busy, Lon", Curra replied, as he opened the door into his personal quarters. "Yeah, yeah, busy- with landing the ship, I'm standing right in front of with- oh wait, I forgot to tell you- I have taken an apprentice", Lon Drime said. "Absolutely, eagerly anticipating the pleasure of meeting them. The excitement is palpable, truly.", Curra Swift said with a very apparent lack of excitement. He was too tired for this. "Your excitement is almost half as astounding as my Padawan's excitement to be meeting the great general Swift", Drime said dryly. The call ended, and Curra exited his chambers to go meet his friend on the ground. He was surprised, his friend had not tried to convince him to get an apprentice, yet again. I was lucky this time.