All That We Are: A Star Wars Story

12

"Tell me everything," Ark repeated. A flurry of heat spiraled in his chest. He hadn't done a great job proving his loyalty to his master but breaking a Jedi would make up for all of it. It would put him at the top of Cruxl's list, not the Zygerrian. Every thought he ever had about traveling or living a life outside of the Force, everything that didn't include his studies on the dark side, he shoved down to the depths of his mind.

Nasia's eyes flashed for a moment before pressing themselves shut and her physical body suddenly became still. Her head felt like it was splitting apart as someone reached in and she wanted to scream, but her throat pinched closed.

§

Nasia didn't recognize where she was - nor did she remember where she was before this. She stood in the middle of a valley of boulders and hot sand, facing a smoking disk-shaped ship sticking halfway out of the ground.

"Come," Someone beside her said. "Keep your guard up."

Eyes still on the structure, Nasia smiled at the softness of the voice. "Master,"

The golden Mirialan, hair as soft as a cloud, towered above another figure, herself. Well, a smaller - and wider - version. Her face was as clear as the green sea of Costaket. This was before she earned her first set of tattoos; maybe a year or two under Biwu Luten's tutelage. The three of them stood in a line, but the two Jedi from the past didn't seem to acknowledge Nasia in her current form.

The young padawan ripped the silver and turquoise hilt from her belt, holding it in a ready position.

At the sight of her old lightsaber, a wave of nostalgia swept over her. That shoddy piece of work was from a long time ago.

"Let's kick some pirate a-"

Biwu shot his student a look while Nasia glanced at herself, pressed her lips into a thin line, and rubbed a palm on her forehead.

The girl swallowed, but after a moment of silence, they both erupted in laughter.

"There's a load of credits and Jedi artifacts we have to recover, and that's your priority?" Biwu raised an eyebrow and motioned for her to follow.

Still entranced by seeing her teacher, young and alive, Nasia simply gazed in awe. She snapped back as Biwu and herself moved forward into the ship and jogged to catch up.

"So, we're not fighting pirates?" The padawan's arms dropped to her side.

The Jedi Master looked down at his holodevice. "I'm only picking up one life form,"

"Ah," She clicked her tongue confidently. "The pirate boss."

"I wouldn't keep my hopes up..." Biwu tilted his head.

They all passed their eyes over the interior. Lights flickered on and off while mechanics attached to the walls sparked. It smelled of charred metal, Nasia remembered that. Everything else was fuzzy. Pirates and deserts led her to conclude this memory was on Florrum, but there wasn't much else she could gather.

"Wait," Biwu stopped, holding up a palm.

The padawan bumped into his soft form, immediately becoming more alert. "What is it?" She whispered. "Do you hear something?"

"I feel... fear." 'And the Force,' Biwu thought. "Put your saber away."

She rolled her eyes as she followed his instructions and hooked the hilt back onto her waist, somewhat disappointed. Something behind them clanged against the floor, making all three Jedi whip their heads around towards a dark room off to the side.