SGC and the Force

Chapter 12: Origin of the Force

When they got to Coruscant, they were all greeted by Telyr Zamau.
"It is great to see you all. Please let me take you to your rooms.
I am sure you want some rest before you start."
They all walked to the transport. When they got in, she said with a smile,
"In fact, the only thing you all will do is read some forms and
sign your name on things. I lied to General Davis, I would need
you four on many things. What I did not tell him, I wanted you
all to take a vacation. I know that you two have been busy with
your Jedi shows, and you needed rest. I also know you couple
need time together. I will do all the talking with General Davis
on your behalf. He will not suspect a thing."

What Sam and Brandon did not know was that it was Jack and General Davis who came up with this setup for Telyr Zamau to tell this story. It was not too hard to convince those two Jedi, either. It exhausted them going from place to place.

Sam said to her,
"We'll try not to give anything
away if we talk with General Davis."

Brandon said,
"If he wants to talk to us about anything,
and we are asleep, tell him we are in a meeting."

They all laughed.

"If only I could have slept through some meetings I went to,"
Jack stated.

Sam replied with a smile,
"I'm thrilled that Jedi Knights don't have meetings like the Air Force."

When they all got out, she showed them to their rooms. Sam and Jack had their room, Dentralla had hers, and Brandon had his. Before she left, they all thanked her for the vacation.

After they entered their room, it was not long until Sam called her sister. After the greetings,
Skyma said,
"I settled everything with your bar friends."

"GREAT! I have missed them. How are they doing?"

Jack interrupted,
"Wonderful and crazy, no doubt."

Skyma laughed,
"Yup. They are a crazy bunch."
She paused,
"Sammy, you and Jack, please meet
me near the Sabador Café. I will
have something for you when you
enter the Sweet & Savory Café."

Sam replied,
"Be right there, Twi'lek."
She turned off her Holocron device, and they both left.

On an average day, the bustling city seemed alive, a living, breathing entity teeming with endless activity. Towering spires stretched toward the heavens, their shimmering surfaces reflecting the sunlight. Above, the skies were crowded with an intricate dance of flying crafts — merchant vessels, sleek passenger transports, and swift couriers weaving through designated lanes with practiced precision. The constant hum of engines filled the air, a ceaseless reminder of the city's vibrant energy.

On the streets below, throngs of people from all walks of life moved with purpose. Merchants shouted their wares in the crowded markets, their voices competing with the chatter of buyers haggling over prices. Stalls overflowed with goods from every corner of the land — exotic spices, finely woven fabrics, and mysterious trinkets that seemed to carry stories of distant places. Business districts bustled with couriers delivering messages and clerks rushing between meetings, their faces marked with the urgency of deadlines.

Beneath the surface of this glittering facade lay the city's shadowed underbelly. Narrow alleys and dim-lit corridors were a world unto themselves, filled with the clatter of machinery and the murmurs of those who called this place home. Here, life moved to a different rhythm, driven by survival. Laborers toiled in workshops, and the faint smell of oil and smoke hung heavy in the air. In hidden corners, the underworld thrived, trading whispers and secrets in the dark.

Near the city's center, the grand halls of governance stood tall, their architecture a testament to power and ambition. Diplomats, officials, and guards moved purposefully, their steps echoing across polished floors. Outside, the square was alive with activity — protests, celebrations, or gatherings of curious onlookers watching the spectacle of authority unfold.