Alema Syndulla
"I am not ready for this," I state breathlessly. Nervousness is crawling under my skin. I can't believe I'm doing this. I haven't been to Ryloth since I left. Ahsoka and Anakin and Obi-Wan were the ones who got the glory of fighting that battle, or I would've reunited with my family then. I don't even know how many are still alive.
"We can do it," Ahsoka reassures.
"Can I?"
"You've fought through hundreds of thousands of droids, dealt with a maniac of a master, lost a limb, destroyed tanks single-handedly at thirteen, and you're afraid to meet these people?"
"My father is a legendary hero of our planet, okay? He's a well-known hero and I don't remember him, and I haven't seen him since I was three, and I don't even know the names of my family and I don't know if I have any siblings or if they'll be glad I came back. They sent me to become a Jedi, remember?!" I blurt out in a rush, words coming out in a jumble I can only hope she understands. At least it gets the idea across. "What if they're mad I left?"
"Then we'll go to Shili," Ahsoka replies, not as if it helps. I'm afraid of being rejected, though I can't imagine why I would be.
"And what if they worship me?" I continue, "What are they like? I don't know anything about the culture here, anymore! What if we're too different to fit in? What if the war comes here again?"
"Then at least we're here to protect them?" Ahsoka offers. "But you're catastrophizing. Just breathe. We'll be fine, and I'm right here. Honestly, what worse could happen that hasn't already?"
She has a point. "I don't know them," I continue. "I was already thrown out of one family. I don't want that to happen again!"
My sister sets a hand on my arm. "We'll go through that together, too. That's what we'll do. They'd be foolish not to want you."
It does little to calm my nerves, but I take a few deep breaths, attempting to expel my anxiety into the Force. After all, even if I am no longer a Jedi, I know no other way. The beliefs never failed me once, even if the people did. (I miss the twins. They're the only parents I knew, the only place I can call 'home'. They're the only true family we had – because family stays together through to the end – but it feels unfair for us to settle down when they can't.)
We send a message ahead that we're coming, because that's the only way we'll be allowed into the Syndulla residence in the first place. Considering that this is a time of war, that's not really a surprise. I'm glad anyway, because that's going to make it easier. At least I won't have to literally knock on the door and then try to explain from there who we are.
That hardly makes me feel any less nervous now, though, that Ahsoka and I are standing right outside the place. My heart is hammering wildly, and I don't think I've been this nervous since... Never, actually.
We're waiting out in the courtyard when two familiar figures finally stride into view. My memories of them might be so faint I couldn't picture them anymore, but I still know who they are instantly. Cham and Eleni. My parents.
It's weird to think of that title towards someone now, after so many years.
For a moment, all I can do is stand and... stare. What am I supposed to say? Both of them appear momentarily at a loss for words as well. Good. It's relieving to know I'm not the only person who has no idea how to react.
"Alema?" my mother finally utters.
"Mother," I breathe, a surge of emotions rushing through me. I hardly know her, but... I may have hardly remembered anything, but now that I'm here again, in the very place I spent the first few years of my life, I realize that there was a part of me that still missed this. I still care for my family here, even if I don't know them anymore.
"I never thought we would see you again," my father says, his own voice also full of emotion.
"I didn't expect to, either," I answer, a little shakily.
"You're more than welcome here, Alema," my mother promises, moving a little closer to she's standing in front of me. I'm not expecting it when she suddenly reaches forwards, pulling me into a hug.
I reach up, wrapping my own arms around her. It feels so... right, though strange, to be back. I don't remember what it was like to have a real family, but I do now, and it's hard to comprehend.
"Who is this?" my father inquires, once we pull apart.
"I'm Ahsoka," my sister speaks up,
"She's been my best friend since I went to the Temple," I explain.
"Why are you here?" my mother wonders.
"We left the Order," Ahsoka declares.
"Why?" my father frowns, "What happened?"
And just like that, the edge of my excitement at being home starts to fade, as I think again about why we're here. Not that I'm not glad I go to see them again – and if this didn't happen, I probably never would have – but still. "Long story," I reply, "Ahsoka was accused of treason and thrown out of the Order. So was my master. They tried to give me to a different master after it was over, and I... we couldn't stay anymore, so we left together." It's almost weird to be telling them this when I hardly know them, but they are my parents, even if... I don't know if I see them that way. It'll take time, I imagine.
They both exchange borderline horrified glances. "Why would they have believed your friends guilty of treason?" asks my mother incredulously.
"They were being framed, and..." They didn't trust us. They didn't trust Aniya or Ahsoka, and I couldn't stay after that.
"I'm sorry this happened, Alema," she murmurs.
"If you want to stay, you definitely are welcome to. Both of you," my father promises, "I never would have expected something like this to happen when I sent you away to be a Jedi."
A warmth swells inside of me, and the anxiety I had coming back begin to fade. If we have to be somewhere other than with the twins, I'm definitely glad it's here, somewhere we'll be accepted. I don't know why I thought we wouldn't be. I guess one betrayal so great tends to shake trust in everyone.
"You should meet your sister," my mother declares, "And all the others will like to know you're back, too."
The others... like my cousins. I remember the one I was closest to, the one who was like an older sister to me, though only vaguely. I don't know how I feel at the thought of seeing them again. So much has changed. It's overwhelming to happen all at once. "I have a sister?" I echo. How did I never think about this? I could have many younger siblings, and I'd have no idea.
"Yes," my father confirms, then calls, "Hera?"
A short, green Twi'lek who looks very much like my mother darts into view from right around the corner. It makes me wonder if she was listening to the conversation the entire time. Maybe too shy to come out until called, which I can hardly blame her for. This is awkward.
"This is Hera," my father introduces, "And Hera, this is your older sister Alema, and her friend Ahsoka. They're going to be staying with us now."
I look down at the girl, suddenly at a complete loss of what to say. This is my sister, my little sister who I've never met before or knew about until today. I have a sister, but Ahsoka and I are the same age. I have absolutely no idea how to act, and suddenly I think I know how my master must have felt when I came into her life, and Anakin when Ahsoka did.
"Hi," she squeaks, the first to find her voice. "Are you really Jedi?"
"Was," I correct.
"We were trained, but we left," Ahsoka answers shortly.
"I'd prefer not to talk about this right now," I tell her, before she asks any more questions about it.
Somehow, I think that only made her more curious. "Okay," Hera agrees, "So... I'm ten! How old are you?" A mildly amused smile flits across my face at the question. Age is always important when you're young.
"I'm still fifteen," I reply, "Ahsoka is sixteen."
Our parents move away, giving the three of us room to talk alone.
"Oh," Hera chirps, then pauses as though considering something for a moment, "Wait, if you're staying with us, then you'll get the guest bedroom next to mine! Unless one of you wants to share with me."
"The guest bedroom will be fine," I assure her.
"Come on!" she exclaims, "I can show you around!"
We haven't made it out of the courtyard yet when an orange and black droid rolls up, beeping. It spins it's tiny... arms, in a way that seems to be intended for dramatic effect.
"Oh, right!" she exclaims, "This is Chopper, my droid. I found him at a crashed fighter by our home."
"He's a former Republic droid?" Ahsoka asks, curiously.
"Yup! And he was more than happy to stay here with us."
The droid beeps. It's different from the sounds Artoo makes, but it sounds a little like 'Who are they?'
"My sister," Hera replies cheerfully, "Remember when I told you one of my sisters went away to become a Jedi? She came back, and she brought her friend."
Chopper beeps again.
"He's glad to meet you," she translates, though I don't entirely need a translator, "But he wishes there weren't more organics around."
I roll my eyes. "How polite of him."
"Being rude is his nature," she grins, and the droid beeps proudly, "He wouldn't be half as much fun if all he did was follow the rules like protocol droids."
"I think that a very protocol-ist thing to say," I smirk.
"Is that even a word?"
"I have no idea."
"Well... Chopper? You can come with us while I go show them around," Hera changes the subject.
"They're staying here?" Chopper sounds almost disappointed, though it doesn't entirely seem malicious. Not that I would care. He is just a droid, and astromechs tend to be... Well, a little like this. (I do my best not to think about how much the droid is – in some ways, anyway – already making me think about Artoo and Arthree.)
"Yeah, I told you that already."
"He really prefers other droids, doesn't he," Ahsoka states dryly.
Chopper rolls past me, unnecessarily ramming against my leg. I'm about to yell a snarky comment after him about how incredibly rude that was, but then I sense the flare of alarm from Hera, and how her eyes go wide.
"What was that?!"
"What?" I ask, bewildered.
Ahsoka sighs. "Your leg clanged."
"Clanged?!" Hera yelps, "How could your leg clang?"
Oh. I've been so used to everyone knowing about it, I completely forgot that my family didn't know, and that they would be most unhappy to hear about it. I hate talking about it. It feels like I'm somehow permanently damaged or broken or something. I'm not fully organic anymore. I lost a part of myself during the war, to Krell, and I loathe that. I wanted to believe I could come out unscathed, but I didn't. There's so much about me that my family doesn't know, and it feels like our lineage is somehow doomed. First Anakin, then me, then Aniya. I wonder who will be next. Not Ahsoka, please. I don't think I could handle it if something happened to her.
Right. Back to present, trying to explain to my family how I lost my leg during the war. "About that," I begin awkwardly, "I might've lost in during the war."
"You lost it?" she repeats, eyes wide and horrified. "How did that happen? You're a Jedi!"
I wince. It's the normal response when someone else realizes what happened, and I hate that. Anakin is more of a Jedi than me, but he was hurt, too. "Being a Jedi makes us no less human... or Twi'lek."
She shudders. "How did that happen?"
"War is nothing like it's made out to be," Ahsoka replies, "It's violent and bloody, and anyone can die at any time. You lose friends all the time and don't know about later, because the most important rule in war is to survive. Alema and I were there when Pong Krell turned traitor. We tried to stop him, but he escaped."
"Oh," Hera whispers, eyes wide.
Chopper beeps out a happy "the less organic, the better." Hera looks scandalized.
I choke back a laugh at her appalled expression. "It has its usefulness, actually. Metal is far more durable and damaging. At least it won't hurt when you kick droids."
The astromech beeps sounding very offended.
"I didn't mean you," I groan.
"Hey, she fought in a war, Chop. Of course, she destroyed other droids all the time," Hera chirps, "Now come on!"
Clearly, someone is very eager to get us settled in.
***
"What's it like to be a Jedi?" Hera asks that evening as we walk around outside. She's showing us some of her favorite places to be, and I'm glad she's so... sociable. It really helps me feel more comfortable, and it's a good distraction. I can't comprehend the fact that we're seriously settled down somewhere and don't need to continuously stress over the war or being a good Jedi, anymore. We can spend however long we want, staying here in peace, however long it takes for us to decide we want to leave or get dragged back into the action somehow. I seriously hope that doesn't happen for a while. I need the break.
"I'll admit my memories are rather tainted right now," I confess, "But my master was... amazing." Talking about her hurts though. It feels entirely unreal that we left, that we might never see the twins again. I refuse to think like that, though. They promised to find us eventually, but right now we need the distance... even if it's killing all of us. I already want to apologize for it, because I really don't want them out of my life. We just need to be away from the Order, and I wish they could leave too, but I could never ask that of them.
"I became a padawan in the beginning of the war," I say, "I... don't know what it normally was like before. I thought it would be fun at first, but it was nothing like I expected."
"Alema had a rough life," Ahsoka answers quietly. "It was much harder than most. Her first master was Krell, but she was transferred to Aniya Skywalker shortly thereafter."
Honestly, I don't know how I feel about this. I don't want my family to feel guilty about sending me to the Jedi, because I'm glad they did – even if I wonder if that's why part of me is always afraid that I'll never be accepted anywhere. I guess in a way, it feels as though no one wanted me, because no one ever has. At the same time, they ought to know. They have every right to.
"Krell is a Separatist general or something, right?" Hera frowns.
"He is, and a former Jedi," Ahsoka explains.
"He's a traitor?" she realizes.
"Yeah, like Dooku," I confirm bitterly. Which promptly reminds that the twins have some very personal feelings on that.
She frowns, as she moves to settle in the grass. "I suppose I always thought that... There wouldn't be Jedi like that."
"Most people see them that way," I agree unhappily. Taking a seat beside her, and adding, "But the truth is, Jedi make mistakes, too. More often than we like to think about."
"I've always wanted to meet one," she admits, "But I'm glad you're the first."
Silence falls between us, and my mind wanders back to how we came here, as much as I try to push those thoughts away. I wish the twins would get their chance at a peaceful life like Ahsoka and I have right now, and I don't know when they will. (Or if they'll live long enough. I know the war could claim them too, but.... I can't accept that possibility.)
"It's nice here," Ahsoka comments, looking around.
"Peaceful," I concur, staring out at the grass all around us, though it's hard to see now that it's so dark out. It's nothing like Coruscant and I have to say, I almost like it better here. (But the twins aren't here.)
"Uh-huh," Hera chirps, flopping down on the ground on her back, staring up at the star covered sky, "It wasn't always that way, though."
I stretch out on the grass next to her, and moments later, Ahsoka joins us. Maybe it's childish but I don't care.
"Because of the war?" I inquire.
She nods. "There were droids everywhere and we had to be in hiding for a while. I helped fight sometimes, but my parents were scared I would get hurt."
"You fought?" I exclaim. It's just... Okay, there are ten- or eleven-year-old padawans out there fighting, but we're Jedi.
"'Course I did," she chirps, "We all had to."
A quiet sigh escapes me as I stare up at the sky. The galaxy is such a complete mess right now, and it almost makes me feel guilty for leaving, instead of helping fight and win the war. But I needed the break. I know that much.
"I'm gonna fly away from here one day, though," Hera remarks.
"You want to fly?" Ahsoka asks. (Like Anakin and Aniya always did.)
"Yes! But everyone thinks I'm too little still."
"You are little," I insist, maybe more to get a reaction than anything.
"I am not," she grumbles under her breath, "I'm already ten."
"Which is little," Ahsoka retaliates.
"Is not."
"You'll agree with us, one day," I retort with a smirk. Hera huffs but doesn't argue.
Silence settles over us again, and I find myself feeling much too comfortable to move, even though we should probably be heading back to the house soon. It's so much like the position I've slept in so many times over the past few years, outside in the dark, ready to jump up at a moment's notice, along with my family at my side. The only difference is that here everything feels peaceful, like I could actually rest if I tried.
I don't even remember falling asleep, but the next thing I know something grabs my nose. I jolt awake on instinct, jolting upright – automatically reaching for my lightsaber, only to remember a split second later that I don't have it – and pulling free from the grip of Chopper's hand in the process.
Ow.
"Chopper!"
Hera and Ahsoka both appear to be choking to death on their laughter.
I cross my arms, glaring at them, or trying to, because a smile keeps stubbornly trying to make its way onto my face. "Was that really necessary?"
***
This is... hard. So hard. I have no idea how to live, but we're learning slowly. We have people to help us, and that makes it easier, but even so... I don't understand anything about how civilians live. I don't know their struggles, and I can't help wondering if that's not one of the main problems the Jedi have. We're isolated from the commoners, and it makes it difficult for us to deal with them, to know what they need. It doesn't really matter, I suppose. I'm not a Jedi and never will be again. I left, for Ahsoka. (I left my master behind. I walked away, as if it was nothing.)
There are good days and bad, I suppose. There are days I know this is what I need to do, and my family here needs me, and we slowly work our way into fitting into their lives. I like it here, no matter how unusual it is. There are nights I'm plagued by nightmares of the many things I've experienced throughout the war. There are days I'm smothered by guilt and loneliness, feeling like I can hardly drag myself out of bed and keep moving, wondering if I should, if I deserve to. (I left them.)
We make friends fast, but no one truly understand us. Sometimes, I miss our old family so badly it hurts. It's a constant, ceaseless ache in my chest that will never go away.
Sometimes, I'll stare at the stars, wondering which one the twins are on now, if we can see them. I can pick out some of the systems we were at once, in the stars. When I dream, they're always there, and I hear their voices in my head. I miss the feel of her hands on my shoulders, not when one was metal as much as when both were flesh, though I fear the day I'll forget that, too.
I remember Arthree, and Artoo, and Rex and Appo and the clones, too many to name.
I miss Anakin. In the end, he was the one who taught me to trust, to not constantly live a life in fear. He did the most to help me move on.
I miss Padme and Jaufre.
I want to be home, but I'm not so sure where that is anymore.
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