Star Wars: Imagines

| 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 ➪ 𝐊𝐢𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨 |

                   Placing my hands on my hips, I waited patiently as the ship's door slowly opened, revealing the short red-headed girl. She was accompanied by a face I haven't seen in a long time,

                    "Master Kota?" I breathed out, very relieved to see the old man again after all these years.

                    The old Jedi nodded his recognition at me. His grey hair was tied up in a messy bun, and his eyes were a cloudy-white; obviously blinded since the fall of the Jedi, "Master (L/N)," he croaked out, "Your Padawan told me you survived, but I didn't believe it."

                    "She's actually a knight now, my old friend," I smiled, helping the blind Jedi General from the ship, Serio gripping my hair in confusion, "How'd you escape? And how'd you... you know?"

                    "Lose my sight?" the General snorted in annoyance, "Some Sith apprentice. Vader's lackey it seems. And it turns out I was right about the Clones— they weren't to be trusted. You and Kit should've listened to my advice about not having a battalion, or maybe he would've made it too."

                    My heart sunk into my belly at that remark. Rahm must've not known that Kit was taken out by Darth Sidious himself, not the Clone rebellion,

                    "Father didn't die from Clones!" the little Nautolan chimed in from behind me, obviously angry at the Jedi's accusation, "The Sith got him!"

                    Master Kota cocked his head in the young one's direction. Although he couldn't see my son, he could sense his presence, and of course his force signature,

                     "You're Fisto's boy, then," the man suggested as Serio dropped from my back and approached the man, "He'd be very proud of you. You're brave like him— an admirable trait."

I was surprised by Kota's high praise. He wasn't the Jedi to give out praise easily, especially to Younglings. The young ones annoyed him. That's why he only had one apprentice, Falon Grey. I wonder if Kota knew of his whereabouts.

"Who's training this one?" Kota asked while walking side-by-side with myself and my old apprentice; Serio back on my shoulders again.

Glancing over at Millie, I sigh inwardly and shrug, "I haven't told her yet, but I would like Millie to train him once he reaches age." Millie's eyes shot open in surprise at that, "I've been teaching him simple meditation techniques and common lightsaber combat that could get him out of trouble, but I want to stick to the Jedi Code, and not train him. He's my son, and it's against the Jedi Code for him to even be alive, yet alone train him."

"I would be honored, Master," my old apprentice chimed in, looking to Kota for approval. It's almost as if she's formed a bond with the old man, even though they've only known each other for a short while, "Master Kota has some information you may be interested in... about the Empire."

"Let's hurry inside then," I chime in, ducking into the cave we've been calling a home for the past six years.

It's not the most comfy home for any life form, yet alone three— no, four Jedi, but we've added some advancements over the years. There used to be a nest of Gundarks living in the cave, but we took care of them quickly. Who knew Gundark pelts sold so well on Tatooine? Throughout the years, we also added a tribute to all the Jedi that were confirmed lost or missing— Master Plo Koon, Master Nu, Padawan Tano, the Younglings, and of course, Master Kit Fisto.

Sitting at the mahogany table in the center of the tributes, my mind begins to wander. All these ancient and powerful Jedi... lost. Mace Windu, Aayla Secura, Luminara Unduli. They wouldn't have died in vein. This information Master Kota has may just be enough to form a competitive Rebellion— enough to challenge the mighty Empire,