The ground below her was rough and cold, but the air was hot and thick, smelling unmistakably of burning wood. The sky was obscured by a blanket of black smoke, the only light coming from the flames that now engulfed every structure around, orange flames reaching up to the sky like desperate hands.
Nova's eyes snapped open, and she pushed herself to her feet. Her legs shook as she stood, coughing and raising an arm to shield her face from the smoke. Her heart was beating a hundred miles an hour in her chest.
It was a scene she had lived a thousand times in her nightmares, every time the same. No mystery – just a horrible memory. A reminder of where the woman she was now had come from.
She forced herself to make it through the smoke, standing tall as she reached the other side. The air was clearer there – easier to see through and breathe.
She glanced to the temple, the place she had called a home of sorts for eleven years of her life, now set ablaze. There was no use wasting tears over it – it had hardly been a happy place for her.
Her body froze where she stood, there but not there as her gaze moved to the party of four, three standing, one fallen.
The young Twi'lek lay motionless, her once beautiful body now cruelly mutilated by scars and burns. what blue skin was still unharmed and visible seemed to glow in the light. She was face down on the ground, but Nova knew her jade green eyes were still open.
Her name had been Elara. She had been one of Nova's closest friends at the temple. Now, she was only a tarnished body. Beaten and broken by someone Nova had trusted – at least to some extent.
Two girls stood above the body, both equally dishevelled in appearance. They looked similar, both with fair skin and brown hair, but not so similar that one could mistake them for twins or even sisters.
The first was the taller of the pair, and the oldest – though not by much. Her hair was fluffy, reaching comfortably to her chest, and styled to stay out of her eyes. She stood firm, carrying herself with a certain level of pride and control compared to her companion.
The second was far less controlled. She was shorter – though not by much – and her hair was longer and messier, falling out of the rough updo she had attempted to put it in. Her eyes burned with anger, her breathing heavy as she glowered at their opponent.
The first girl held the second's hand tightly, keeping her by her side silently.
Before them stood a boy. Taller and older than them both with black hair that nearly reached his shoulders. His eyes also held rage, though it was far more ferocious than that of the girl's. in his right hand he gripped his ignited lightsaber, the clean blue blade offensive against the orange tinted light.
Nova tensed as she looked at him.
The second girl found her voice, her free hand clenched into a tight fist.
Nova looked down at her own hands, not at all surprised to see the gesture replicated. She had grown used to seeing herself in her nightmares, she knew how it played out.
"How could you do this, Ben?" she spat at her brother, voice shaking and catching in her throat. Her breathing became heavier with every breath, the rage continuing to build and build.
"Nova, don't," the first said, squeezing her hand.
A tear was pulled to Nova's eye as she remembered the sensation. Only once had it failed to calm her; the moment she was now forced to relive.
"Nova you don't understand," Ben said. He sounded desperate.
"No, I don't. So, tell me, brother, why?"
"Luke, he – he lied to me! To all of us! This temple, this order, it's all a lie! He tried to kill me!"
"No." She held her ground in the face of his outburst, her voice level.
"Yes," he said. "He said I was his prized student, but he was holding me back! He was holding you back too!"
Nova faltered for the briefest second, swallowing hard. Not once had he expressed this sentiment towards her before, not once had he shown he had faith in her – at least not in recent years when it would have meant something.
One thing was for certain – the temple had torn the two Solos apart.
"You could be so much more!" Ben urged. He raised his empty hand to her, one last, perhaps desperate attempt to keep something of his past. "Come with me."
His eyes remained fixed on her face. The malice in his look had faded for the moment as he reached for his sister.
Nova stood frozen in shock, her eyes wide. Even if she had wanted to, she could not bring herself to believe him. Any slivers of trust that remained between the two siblings had been lost. He had fallen too far from her grasp, and she was not about to follow him.
Her mind was made up. "Fenna, follow my lead."
Fenna's head snapped to look at her. "What? What do you mean?"
"NOW!"
Ben swiftly retracted his hand and stepped back.
Nova had dropped Fenna's hand in favour of freeing her lightsaber from its place on her belt. Igniting it, she twirled it over her head, bringing it to rest across her front in her duel-ready stance.
Fenna followed suit, their matching green blades illuminating their faces in the shadows of smoke. The deadly hum filled their ears.
Ben pulled himself up, gripping his own weapon tighter. He was the first to swing.
Nova's instincts took over as she blocked him, gritting her teeth as they pushed against each other. She knew she no match for him, physically or in the Force, but in that moment she did not care. She had to try and do what she felt needed to be done.
He needed to be stopped.
She elected to kick him in the stomach to push them back apart.
Ben stumbled, grunting from the hit. It did not take long to steady himself, a new anger burning in his eyes. "You've brought this upon yourself, Nova. I don't want to kill you, but if I have to..."
"Just you try it!" Fenna spat, swinging her lightsaber.
Ben blocked her with little effort. "Stay out of this, Fenna!"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she retorted, going in for another attack.
Nova joined her, and together they threw everything they had at him. All their strength and training, though it was starting to slip. All sense of precision and technique had been forgotten. Their fighting style was scrappy, driven by emotions: hatred, anger, fear.
Ben's was just as unrefined – fast and malicious. Reaching out through the force, he was able to push Nova back, knocking her to the ground.
She rolled across the rough surface, her head spinning as it hit the stone. When she came to a stop, she groaned, lifting her hand to her cheek. She winced as she found a bleeding cut.
Fenna and Ben continued to duel, neither one letting up or backing down for a second. Their lightsabers clashed, blue on green, the sound ringing in Nova's ears.
With a grumble, she got to her feet, reigniting her lightsaber as she charged back to the fight.
Ben turned his full attention to her, blocking the blow she sent his way as she reached him. They battled back and forth until he acquired a firm upper hand, knocking her back once more. He swung at her again.
Nova had to jump aside to dodge the blow, dropping her lightsaber in the process. She reached for it, desperately trying to pull it to herself, but Ben was faster.
He pulled it to him, dropping it back to the floor. Then, with his own, he sliced it clean in half, leaving it beyond Nova's repair. The kyber crystal inside released a few final sparks, before dying away into the darkness.
Powerless, Nova pushed herself away from her brother. Every muscle in her body was starting to scream. She was out of luck and hope. She had lost.
Head bowed, she waited for the killing strike to land.
But it never came.
A loud cry caused her eyes to snap back open, and a scream to tear itself from her throat. "NO!"
Fenna stood above her, the blue blade of Ben's lightsaber protruding straight through her stomach. She looked at Nova, her mouth moving to speak, but no sound coming out. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her eyes closed, and her body fell limp.
Nova was still screaming, gathering her fallen companion into her lap as everything faded – shifting to something new.
It was a scene Nova had never seen before.
She was standing on a platform, overlooking a bridge that went over a large drop. The surrounding space was large, open, and cold. Everything was dark; no light coming in from outside, despite the cold wind that whipped at her back and her hair.
Her hands gripped the railings, knuckles turning white as she observed the two figures on the bridge.
He was there again. Ben. Stood face to face with her father – their father. And then he ignited his lightsaber, the jagged, unrefined blade of red going straight through their father.
Again, she screamed, forced to watch as his body fell from the bridge. Going down, down, down into nothingness.
Han Solo, her father, was dead.