Star Wars: A Resistance Story. Book 2

Chapter 2: Meditation and Bet.

"Stay perfectly focused... Calm... Keep in mind your target... Breathe..."

Ly'ra kept her eyes closed, breathing in deeply the iodized air of Castilon. The sound of water and the waves hitting softly the platform's base helped her to stay focused and relaxed. Seated  cross-legged on the edge of a balcony, in a corner of the station Colossus, the young woman was carefully listening to her mentor's instructions.

After they left D'Qar, the group of mercenaries flew away, trying to find a shelter in every corners of the Galaxy, trying to lose the First Order who was still looking for them. After few weeks, some of them left by themselves, while Bango, Dante and Ly'ra stayed together. They went on Tatooine, Coruscant, Dathomir and since few days, they were settled on Castilon. The three of them knew that they couldn't stay very long on this planet, but they needed food and money and they couldn't take another mission knowing that it could be a trap. Thus, they needed another way and today it would be a bet on the next Fighters's race. An old friend of Bango was supposed to give him an hint on the potential winner and the young man went to find her few hours ago. During this time, Dante had imposed the young woman a new meditation and relaxation session and this, since they were back from Dathomir. There, Ly'ra had started to develop new capacities and the former Jedi was seriously worried about it. Seated in front of her, the man was attently studying her, she seemed calm and sereine, breathing slowly. Her long now reddish curls were lifted by the wind and they were softly caressing her face. A small and sad smile appeared on Dante's face, a smile that disappeared with a shake of his head.

"Are you still with me?"

The young woman nodded softly, still silent. The man then placed a little wooden cube in front of him and went on with his instructions.

"Good... Now I'm gonna complicate the exercise. I want you to visualize the object I have in my hand and once it'll be done, you'll make it come to you. No! Keep your eyes shut and stay focus."

Ly'ra took a deep breath, cracked her neck and dived deeper into her meditation. To be honest, she didn't really know what she was doing. Dante seemed to have noticed her nightmares and her tantrums since they were back from Dathomir and all he said was that it had something to do with her mother. Ly'ra never knew her. According to her father, she was dead giving birth so, when Dante mentioned the woman, the young pilot had wanted to know more but he didn't add anything else. Except that she would know everything when the time would come. As she was following his instructions carefully, thinking that the Jedi would easier talk if he saw she was playing his game. Thus, she emptied her head of her thoughts and focused. First, she could easily see Dante settled in front of her. Then, slowly, she saw a shape appearing in her mentor's hand. It seemed to be a cube. Her breathing slowed down and, very softly, she raised her right hand in front of her. She carefully moved her wrist, as if she was grabbing the cube and, the following second, she thought she could feel the object in her hand. A small smile appeared then on her face.

On his side, Dante stayed perfectly quiet, taken aback. The cube was flying in the air, suspended between them, surrounded by a red light.

"We have a problem!"

An explosion. Surprised, Ly'ra let this force overwhelmed her and she destroyed the cube. A sigh escaped her lips and Dante thought he saw a red light in the young woman's green eyes when she opened them. A light that disappeared so quickly that he even doubted it really existed. He held back a cuss.

"Dammit Bango! How many times did I tell you to not bother us when she's working? Are you really so stupid or are you doing it on purpose?"

The young man grimaced. He had always admired the old man, drinking his words like his life was depending on them, never asking a single question, but he was also very intimidated by him, shaking violently every time he was rising his voice, like now.