𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐘 | 𝑜 𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑏𝑖

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

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❝we are spinning our own fates, good or evil, never to be undone❞ – William James

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𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔬, 𝔦𝔫 𝔞 𝔤𝔞𝔩𝔞𝔵𝔶 𝔣𝔞𝔯, 𝔣𝔞𝔯 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔶 . . .

IN THE MIDST OF THE CHAOS of battle, there was the sound of the gentle waves. Underneath the screaming of innocents and soldiers, there was peace. Under the sound of a heart pounding with panic, there was a sliver of tranquility. Deep blue water glittered with the gold reflection of the sun, lapping against the shore. It slowed the heart that threatened to break free of its cage and it calmed the anguished mind.

The woman closed her eyes and forced her stray thoughts into submission. The sound of the waves took her back to a place in her memory that never failed to ease her body and mind. It was silent in that place, save for the lapping of the waves and the gentle tumbling of a thousand fountains.

It was at that moment that the metal creatures surrounding her grew confused. They held their blasters aloft, their electronic brains trying to comprehend the situation. Why had their target decided to ignore incoming death? The battle droids didn't have to ponder long, though, because a moment later they were in pieces.

She moved with unforeseen speed that shouldn't have belonged to a human. Blaster fire exploded, red streaks flying through the air. But the only thing they ended up hitting was their fellow soldier. None of them noticed the blur of some small metal thing fling into her hands on its own accord.

The last survivor looked around in alarm at the scorched metal bodies that foreshadowed its fate. Those who hadn't become victims to friendly fire were piles of scraps. They were missing limbs or heads; some she sliced in half. Invisible hands had crushed the rest. What once were battle droids were now sparking balls of metal.

Its databanks told it that only when the Jedi Generals of the Republic arrived in battle was there such damage.

And then Gaea A'Merra swung her humming blade — a flash of silver and verdant — and the last droid fell. The last thought to fire through its circuitry was that there was no match in the Separatist databanks. She was no Jedi.

A breeze blew from the deep blue, sending the smell of salt through the ash and smoke. It was a breath of fresh air in the choking hopelessness that hung in the atmosphere. War had come to even the Outer Rim. Even the hardy smugglers and pirates of Llanic knew that it was useless to fight the storm.

Gaea's head jerked up at the thundering sound of Republic battle cruisers overhead. It had finally arrived to fight the Separatist Alliance. She needed to get off Llanic, but she still had a job to do. So she lifted her wrist to her face and spoke into her communicator. "Cyronn! Have you found him? The Republic is here, and they'll be landing any second." Her voice was too elegant to be in the center of such destruction. But there she was, searching with desperation for the young boy she had come to save.

"Gaea, it's too late," replied a voice crackling through the communicator. Her heart leapt into her throat as her fear and horror mounted. Please, not again, her heart pleaded. But he continued. "They've taken him — the pirates. We're too late."

The woman bowed her head, stray locks of fire falling into her face from the dirty plait tied behind her head. Her fist clenched around the hilt of her weapon, still singing the soft song of violence. Her mind raced with conflict. The boy was alive, but he was now in the hands of pirates they couldn't track.

"Gaea." Her student's voice came as a reminder to return to reality.

"I'm coming." Her voice was no longer strong, but shaking with defeat. "Meet me at the ship." When the line went dead she dropped her wrist and stared at the weapon in her hand. With a quick press of a button, the blade shot up into the hilt and the humming silenced. She placed it on a clip on her belt and brushed her hair out of her face.

There was silence again — save for the waves. They, directed by the moon, continued beating against the shore as if nothing was wrong. Gaea listened for a moment, her blue eye watching the tide. Then, she spun around and walked into the swirling smoke, disappearing altogether.

Obi-Wan Kenobi's eyes shot open, chest heaving and eyes struggling to adjust to the low light of his quarters. He found his heart pounding against his rib cage as he inhaled a shaky breath. The odd smell of salt and smoke was still in his nose, and he swore he could still hear the waves of Llanic's ocean. Disbelief was in his heart and shock in his mind. It couldn't be. She looked too different to be her. Obi-Wan couldn't find any reason to believe what he had seen, other than that the Force had shown it to him. If it was true, he needed to speak with the Jedi Council.

He rose from the floor, grabbing his lightsaber from the small table beside him. He paused for a moment, studying the familiar weapon. His mind flashed back to the weapon in her hands, recalling how different it was to his. Where had she gotten it from?

When he opened the door, he all but crashed into someone on the other side.

"Woah, Master!" Anakin Skywalker cried, stepping back.

"Move, Anakin, I need to contact the Jedi Council."

"What? What's going on? Is this about the mission?"

"I need to speak to the Council," he repeated, more urgent than before. He locked eyes with Anakin, who frowned.

"Master, what's wrong?"

The Jedi Master took a deep breath. "I've had a vision of someone I haven't seen in a long, long time."

a/n: heyyy welcome to my Star Wars fic I'm so happy you're here!! I've been sitting on this plot for a while but now I finally have the motivation to write it. Don't forget to drop a comment or vote if you liked it! I'd love to hear your thoughts!