His Guiding Star (Obi-Wan Kenobi)

Chapter Fifteen

The moment the group returned to the condo, Talia was out of the window without so much as a glance back at them. Anakin stared after her with what looked like guilt in his eyes.

"Will she be alright?"

"She'll be going home, so yeah." Theo's voice sounded from the kitchen. Obi-Wan frowned.

"Home?"

"Level 1313. Been living there since she was twelve," Theo came back into the living room, still eating. "She doesn't talk too much about her past, but we know that much. Hey!" He rubbed the back of his head, turning to glare at Zoe, who was holding a plastic plant pot in her hand, a bit of his blood staining the rim.

"Snitch."

Obi-Wan nearly choked on the tea Theo gave him, his mind still processing what Theo had just said. Level 1313 was a cruel, lawless place. For a child to have lived there, even for two years...Talia had lived without the protection of the Jedi her entire life. He wondered if perhaps she was right about them all. That they really had abandoned her.

"I didn't tell them anything!" Theo's voice cut into his thoughts. "Besides, it's not like they'll do anything about it, it's fine."

Talia stood panting in the middle of the training room, her muscles burning, her trusty red lightsaber still held in her grip. A gift from him. From Verräter. She lowered her head, focusing on the feel of the Force within her, sensing the life slowly retreating from the fallen bodies around her. Other apprentices, not much older than herself. Verräter liked to train multiple kids at once.

She became aware that there was someone else present in the room, her senses still on full alert. She smelt gunpowder in the air.

"That should have killed you." Milo's voice sounded from the shadows.

"Don't tell me he's set you against me too."

"He hasn't," he stepped into the light, his green eyes soft, her only ally in all of this. "Come with me." 

Talia felt his hand slip into hers, his rough palm against her own. She turned off her lightsaber, tucking it into her belt before allowing him to lead her wherever he intended to go. It had already been a year since Verräter had found her, and yet Talia and Milo trusted each other implicitly. Talia would entrust him with her life without hesitation, without reserve. It was not a willing thing, however. It was a necessity. It was at once selfish and selfless, for they were survivors, and this was how they lived.

Talia kept her senses alert, straining her ears to listen for footsteps, her eyes to look for any sudden movements. She trusted Milo. She didn't trust Verräter. He could return from his errands at any moment.

"I hate him," Milo declared, once they were alone in her room. "I hate him for what he's doing to us." Talia glanced up from bandaging her wounds, watching him while he ranted on about it. Something turned over within her, a disturbing feeling, like her stomach was literally twisting itself into knots. She hesitantly reached out to him through the Force, trying to ease his emotions. Milo's head snapped up, his green eyes going wide.

"What did you just do?"

"I don't know."

Talia was just as confused as he was. They stared at each other for a moment. Milo's voice was grave when he spoke next.

"Try it again."

Talia did so, focusing on easing his emotions through the Force, drawing the pain and anger out of his heart. She heard him exhale softly.