He leans back in his seat, letter in hand, exhaling softly. He hears her voice, remembers in vivid detail the all-nighters they pulled studying for their trials. There is laughter in those memories, exaggerated stories of heroic feats and made up stories about what one master tripped over the other day.
Brumeth glances back at the letter, then at the small crate that the letter came in. She was right; there wasn't much in it. Still, as he set course for Alderaan, he knew it right to present her belongings to her House. As the ship made the jump to hyperspace, the Zabrak pulled aside a set of robes from her belongings. It may not have been the most formal way to do it, but she deserved a Jedi's funeral.
"I'm sorry," he murmured as though Lisaryi could hear him, "that you had to leave us so early." He closed his eyes, tuning his ears to the hum of blue lights outside the ship, hurtling past the engines. "I pray you are at peace."
