Legacy | A Star Wars AU

One

Luke called her Gaia.

She didn't know much about lightsabers—or the new ground she walked upon, for that matter—but the first time she picked one up, it became one with her palm. Surely, with her small body, she was clutzy, and didn't seem to understand her right from her left when it came to footwork, but that was fixable—or so Master Skywalker had said. It helped that the only victims of her (somewhat) terrible sparring were the dummies in the courtyard, and they seemed to handle it well enough.

"Back," Master Skywalker ordered from behind her, and Gaia returned to her first position. There were tears in her eyes—not from sadness, but rather frustration. It had nothing to do with Skywalker—he was a soft-spoken, patient instructor—but rather the result of her being too harsh on herself, even at just nine years old. She lifted the lightsaber.

The glow of it bounced off of her face in an electric blue shade, shadows swirling on the ground beneath her feet as she awkwardly pivoted in a circle that needed much work. She then brought the saber mercilessly down upon the dummy's neck, slicing its head off of it one swift movement, holding the final frame of her stance as it toppled off of the body.

"Better," Luke acknowledged. "Although you are still hesitating, even when you pivot," he went on to advise. "Again, now."

And so she repeated, as commanded. When the same result occurred, Luke could only do what he does best with his students—relate, and hope it influences. "You know, I was not unlike you when I first began my training as a young Jedi," he started in, folding his hands together and taking a few steps toward her.

Gaia had heard the stories of Luke's own experiences with his Jedi training--it was her favorite activity to sit around the dinner table at the end of a long day and eat as he enlightened the students of what he'd personally been through deep in the swamps of Dagobah with Master Yoda. She couldn't imagine what it was like in such a strange place, with an even stranger teacher, stumbling from exercise to exercise in preparation to fulfill a destiny like his. She never once passed up an opportunity to learn more about how Master Skywalker had bridled such a wild task and ran with it.

"I can feel your rising frustration, your self-hatred, Gaia. You must let it go. Release the chokehold it has on your true potential. You are no less than Voe or Ben. You are all equal here, no matter the pace you take toward the fruition of your true abilities."

They stood in silence then, allowing the words to sink into her mind. Gaia closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. Opened them.

"Again," Luke finally said.

Her next dummy was much taller than her, towering over what she could obviously reach. Still, she made no complaints, and erased the doubt that had begun to creep up the edges of her thoughts. She took the dummy in for one last moment, closed her eyes again.

As Gaia's feet lifted from the ground, she could feel the binds of her insecurities slipping loose. She hovered there for a few moments, basking in the beauty of the Force, letting weightlessness consume her senses. The saber waited to be discharged, comfortably fit into her palm. She clicked it, and out it extended, humming with energy.

Keeping her eyes still shut, Gaia trusted her instincts, bringing the saber down on the dummy. And then the spell broke—she dropped back to the ground, her balance not quite even for a few short moments. Gaia gasped and her eyelids flew up. She gazed at what she had done.

It was a quick, clean cut, running from the dummy's left shoulder to his right hip. Her mind reeled. She had done that? It had to have been her best work so far.

A hand clasped her shoulder. Her gaze was broken as she turned to Master Skywalker, who also towered above her, just like the dummy. The left corner of his mouth was upturned with a warm smile.

"Well done," he let her know, patting the shoulder. "Well done. Should we get something to eat, then?"

As he began to make his way to the inner temple, Gaia remained, once again staring at her work, tracing her fingertips over the split in the stomach.

What she didn't know was that Ben Solo, who had been meditating just beyond the practice yard, stared, too.