Six months later...
Chapter One
Jena
"I've been meaning to ask how you've been holding up," Jax Barrett begins from his speeder, his gaze growing melancholic. "I'm sorry I haven't come to visit—"
"Don't worry about it, Jax," I assure him with a small smile. "You've been very busy. We all have."
Jax lets out a long breath through his nose, returning his gaze to the long stretch of sand before us. "After all these years of peace...it's hard to believe we're entering another war."
Six months ago, my cousin turned to the dark side and slaughtered all the Jedi who had been training with us at the Taris Jedi temple. Uncle Jay thinks that he was seduced to the dark side by the Emperor of the Empire, a man everyone has long thought dead; stabbed by my grandfather Anakin Skywalker as a last act of heroism. But my uncle and other members of my family think he survived and has been rebuilding the Empire under a new name; the First Order.
My family has been rebuilding the old Rebel Alliance as well as trying to convince the senate of the imminent threat on our galaxy's safety. Most in the senate don't want to listen though; they're tired of war and don't want to be a part of another.
But if the Emperor is really still alive, then we won't have much of a choice.
"This holocron Jay is sending you after...can it really find Luke?" Jax now asks.
If we are to face the Emperor and his First Order, we need my father back. Ever since Ben turned he's been missing; we've scoured every inch of the galaxy and we've found no sight or word of him. Uncle Jay suggested Myra and I, the only survivors of Ben's attack on the temple, go to Lothal's Jedi temple and find the Jedi holocron. He was told by his father that it can be used to find anyone force sensitive in the galaxy, and for all our sakes I hope that's true.
I share a look with Myra beside me, then give him a helpless shrug. "We hope so."
Jax nods, not looking very convinced. "Sometimes hope is all we have."
When we finally reach the temple, we go to the south entrance just as Uncle Jay instructed, parking our speeders a few feet away.
"I'll watch the speeders, you two shout if you need anything." Jax says with a smile.
Myra and I both nod in thanks, then we turn our attention back to the temple. We place our hands on the rocky surface and, just as Uncle Jay instructed, we reach out with the force, willing the temple to reveal itself to us and aid us in our time of need.
With a loud groan, a tunnel opens up in the temple, leading us into the depths of the mountain where hopefully our holocron awaits. Myra and I both ignite our lightsabers—mine blue and theirs purple—and head down the temple, our blades being our only source of light.
"Where exactly will we find the holocron?" Myra asks.
"Uncle Jay said there are only four pathways in the temple, so it shouldn't take that long to find it."
"I hope not. Being inside a Jedi temple isn't as fun as it used to be."
I pause for a moment before asking them, "Do you dream of it? Of the fire? Of the smoke?"
"Every single night." Myra whispers.
We make it to the end of the tunnel, bringing us to an open area that has three more paths to travel down. I'm about to suggest going down the path to our right when the torches on the wall, which I hadn't noticed until now, are set ablaze, rendering the light provided by our lightsabers useless.
"I am not surprised my son would send you here." A familiar voice says. I turn to my left to find the translucent blue figure of Obi Wan Kenobi standing a few feet away.
I reach out and brush his hand, the contact sending a warm tingle up my arm. "It's good to see you, Obi Wan. It's been a while."
Obi Wan smiles at me. "How are you, my dear?"
"As well as I can be."
He then nods to Myra. "And you, Myra?"
She smiles at him, and it's mostly genuine. "I'd say the same."
A look of sympathy crosses Obi Wan's face. "The holocron is what you are after, yes?"
"Do you know where we can find it?" I ask him hopefully.
Obi Wan lifts his hand and closes his fist. When he opens it again, a glowing blue cube rests in his palm with golden edges and intricate designs on the surface. He offers it to me, and as he does so, he tells me in a foreboding tone, "Your cousin is heading here now."
As my fingers grasp the holocron I freeze, alarm racing through me. "What? How? Where—"
"He and dozens of stormtroopers are on their way now. He will be here in mere moments," Obi Wan waves his hand and the temple begins to groan. In between two pathways opens up a small staircase, one that's narrow and lined with the same torches the rest of the temple is. "This staircase will lead you to the other side of the temple where you can make your escape, but you must hurry. There is no time to waste."
"Thank you, Obi Wan. Truly." I tell him, then—clutching the holocron to my chest—I run towards the staircase.
Just as I'm about to take my first step, I realize Myra is not by my side. I turn around to find them staring at the pathway we came from, a look of longing growing on their face that I've seen many times before. "Myra, we have to—"
"Get back to the city and take a ship back to Taris." She interrupts.
"Myra--"
"I have to do this," She tells me. "I can sense it. There is no chance of you talking me out of this."
I don't like the thought of leaving them behind, but I can't risk the First Order getting the holocron. Not if it's our only chance of finding my father. And I know that their relationship with Ben is just as complicated as mine is, and if she feels she must do this, then who am I to stop them.
"May the force be with you." I tell them. "Please be careful."
"And with you." She replies, then she starts down the pathway towards the entrance.
With great reluctance I force myself to head down the stairs, taking them two at a time, the holocron cold and heavy against my skin.
-
Myra
Two stormtroopers lead me outside the temple and force me onto my knees. Our speeders are nowhere in sight and Jax is in the same position I'm in, though his hands aren't bound like mine are.
Just as Obi Wan said; there are about twenty stormtroopers surrounding this side of the temple, probably more on the ship parked a few yards away. It's very strange to me; seeing stormtroopers in the flesh, I've only ever seen their armor on pikes and burned in fires. It's simultaneously fascinating and terrifying to see the real deal.
The stormtroopers all stand at attention as the door to their ship lowers; their hands firmly pressed to their sides and their heads held high. I can sense their fear as a figure cloaked in black and hidden behind a mask walks towards us, and it only expands as the figure grows nearer.
Even without the help of the force, and even with the dark clothes and the mask, I would know the figure approaching me is Ben. He may walk with more authority, he may have a powerful set to his shoulders, he may hold his head high in confidence, but I still see the same boy I grew up with, the same boy I fell in love with.
Ben stops in front of Jax and I, and I feel rather than see his gaze on me. I refuse to meet it, instead I focus on his black boots. I can sense his frustration growing as he stares at me, and I can hear him internally urging me to look at him, but to do so would be too painful, like a lightsaber to the heart.
I feel his eyes leave mine and settle on Jax, who glares up at him with disappointment and disgust. "What happened to you?" He asks.
Ben doesn't answer him, he only says, "Where is she?"
His voice sounds robotic, unnatural, but I can still hear him, the real him, underneath all of the noise.
"Who?" Jax cocks his head to the side, feigning ignorance.
"Don't toy with me, Barrett. I know Jena is here and I know she came here looking for the holocron. Tell me where she is and no harm will come to you."
Jax shakes his head, his eyebrows drawing together. "You turned your back on your planet, on your family, on your father—my king. You think I would ever help you? Whatever affection I held for my prince has long since been destroyed. You and your First Order can rot in hell."
Ben stares down at Jax for a beat, then with a single swipe of his arm, he ignites his lightsaber—a red, crackling saber with cross guards on the handle—and stabs Jax in the chest.
I roar—half from horror and half from rage—and stand up, colliding with Ben's solid chest. I can't use my arms, so instead I throw myself at him with all my weight and strength, but it doesn't even move him an inch.
I hear footsteps behind me and I expect stormtroopers to tear me away from Ben, but he holds up his free hand and stops them, his gaze locked with mine.
He turns off his lightsaber, shoves it back into his holster, then grabs my arm. His touch is gentle, but his voice is anything but as he tells his stormtroopers, "No one touches them but me, am I clear? You do not lay a hand on them."
Without waiting for a reply, Ben leads me towards his ship, his grip on me still unyieldingly gentle, like how someone would hold a flower.
"Where are you taking me?" I ask, and my voice sounds small.
"To a star destroyer currently orbiting Lothal."
"Why?"
"So I can interrogate you."
"I'll never tell you where Jena is. You'll have to kill me—"
"Never." He says the word so forcefully and so vehemently that it breaks the last of my self control.
"I've missed you." I whisper, and I really wish it wasn't true.
His grip on my arm tightens ever so slightly. "You wouldn't have had to miss me if you had accepted my offer."
"You had to have known I would never turn to the dark side. Not even for you."
A pause of silence, then, "I missed you too."
I hate myself for it, but I lean into his touch as we make it to the ship, and I ache for it's return when he lets go of me and ushers me inside.
Once I make it inside, I turn to face him fully, lifting my hand to touch the side of his mask, wishing more than anything that I could see his face. "You'll never win." I tell him.
His fingers wrap around my wrist, and he looks caught between holding my hand to his face and ripping it away. In the end he lets go of me and steps out of my touch, putting a few feet of distance between us.
"We'll see." He replies, and I can no longer hear the boy I know under the mechanical voice.