The Jedi in the sanctum of Telos Academy sensed them coming, as vividly as if she were actually watching the ship sink through the hellacious winds outside and touch down in the hangar. The former Exile and a little girl. The girl was nervous, even afraid—not surprising, given all the stories she would have heard in her few years about the Jedi—but her companion was serene, even cheerful, and gradually that would begin to erode the fear.
Their route was easy to picture. She would take long way around, even into the training rooms, to give the youngling her first look at her new home. The place had expanded since they'd begun their work here, been redecorated until Atris's relentlessly sterile décor was just a fading memory, but of course the girl wouldn't know that. First they'd pass by the workbench room, where Bao-Dur and Mira would put down their lightsaber crafting to introduce themselves. Then through the central atrium, where Mical was holding court with a group of students, teaching them about the history of the Order. From the direction of the living quarters, they might hear the voice of one Dustil Onasi, whose turn it was to cook. His father was down from Citadel Station today and helping out in the kitchen, which meant that an endless string of one-liners were probably being batted back and forth right about now. At least they'd be good-natured.
The training rooms were all full today, the Jedi knew: Brianna and Juhani were sparring in one, Jolee and Visas in another, and when the older woman cracked the door to the a third and let the youngling peek in, they'd see Bastila sitting cross-legged on the floor with a student who showed promise in Battle Meditation. And then there'd be Atton in the last training room, demonstrating combat techniques to another group of students. She could almost hear it: "That'll get them almost every time," he'd be saying. "And if it doesn't work, you can always just hook your foot around and kick them in the—"
"Master Atton," the woman would cut in sharply.
He'd just give that irrepressible grin and blow her a kiss, and she'd make a face at him while the students giggled. And now she'd be guiding the youngling back out into the hall and promising quietly, "Almost there."
And they were. Down the long hall and into the meditation room, and then the door slid open, revealing the Jedi inside. She knew there was nothing remarkable about her appearance: simple brown robes, dark hair and brown eyes, and an ordinary face with no trace of injury—not a face that would stop speeder traffic, she'd heard, but one that could still prompt a certain admiral to call her "Gorgeous" nonetheless.
"Hi," she said, grinning reassuringly as she bent down to greet their newest student. "I'm Master Rinna Onasi." She didn't need to look back up at Meetra to know that she was wearing a matching smile.