Master and Padawan

The silence inside the ship became unbearably heavy. I hated feeling exposed.

—If you don't mind —the Latero said firmly from the cockpit—, we'd like to see who we just let onto our ship.

I understood. A hooded stranger didn't exactly inspire trust. I had no choice. I took a second to pull myself together and slowly raised my hands to slide the hood back.

The air inside the ship seemed to freeze the moment my eyes met hers.

Cere Junda.

My stomach twisted. It was her. Older, with scars that hadn't been there before, with the weight of hard years reflected in her dark eyes. But it was her.

I opened my mouth, unsure of what I was going to say, but her name escaped in a whisper before I could stop it.

—Cere...?

Her reaction took a couple of seconds. Two eternal seconds in which her face shifted from confusion to astonishment and then to disbelief.

—Sidias... —she whispered, as if she didn't believe what she was seeing.

But she didn't say it with joy or relief. She said it like she was looking at a ghost.

—No... —she murmured, almost to herself.

Suddenly, the weight of the years hit me square in the chest. Five years of running, five years of surviving. And now, in a matter of seconds, everything was coming back to the surface.

My mind filled with images, memories of a past I thought I had buried.

A young girl with light brown skin, black hair tied in a braid that fell over her shoulders, and striking green eyes.

Trilla.

My breathing turned erratic. It wasn't Cere who filled my memories, but her.

Training in the Jedi Temple. Her eyes shining with determination. Her quiet laughter in the library as we hid from the Masters. The nights when, far from anyone's watchful gaze, we spoke about what it really meant to be a Jedi.

The bond we shared.

And the day I lost her and the rest of the people who were important to me.

I clenched my jaw and looked away, trying to erase her face from my mind. Now wasn't the time to think about Trilla.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus on the woman in front of me.

—How? —I asked, my voice barely a whisper—. How did you survive?

But Cere didn't answer. Her face went pale, and suddenly, she wavered on her feet.

—Cere...

I took a step toward her, but before I could react, she steadied herself against the wall of the ship, closing her eyes tightly and taking a deep breath.

—You two know each other? —Cal cut in, frowning as he looked between us.

I inhaled slowly through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. I was still shaken, but I needed to focus.

I didn't say anything. Instead, I lifted the edge of my cloak just enough for Cal to see the lightsaber strapped to my belt.

His eyes widened.

—You're a Jedi!

Before I could react, Cal started bombarding me with questions.

—How did you survive all this time? Where were you during the purge? Did you meet other Jedi? Why were you with the Haxion Brood?

I didn't pay attention. My eyes remained fixed on Cere.

My stomach churned, and for a moment, I thought I was going to be sick. I slowly approached where Cere had sat down, though I kept my distance.

—You know what I'm going to ask, don't you? —my voice came out harsher than I intended.

Cere exhaled shakily and, without looking at me, responded:

—Give me a few days.

My jaw tightened. I glanced aside, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. But it wasn't like I wasn't used to waiting.

So I let out a small, bitter smile and muttered:

—I've been waiting five years. A few days, I think I can handle.

———

My breath caught the moment I woke up.

My body was covered in cold sweat, my heart hammering against my ribs. The image was still there, alive in my mind. The glow of fire, the clash of blades, the screams… And a face.

—Anakin... —I whispered, before full consciousness hit me like a punch.

My eyes snapped open, and I shot upright, forcing my lungs to take in air. No. Not Anakin. Not him. That name had no place in my life now. He was dead.

I ran a hand over my face and exhaled, trying to push the memory away. It was just a dream. One more among so many.

I forced myself to study my surroundings, to focus on the present. I was in one of the ship's rooms, a small, functional cabin. Just enough space to sleep, nothing more. Definitely better than the dirty metal floors I had been sleeping on these past months.

The sound of plates and utensils outside the room told me the crew was already awake. I got up and stepped into the hallway.

The atmosphere was thick.

From the other end of the ship, Cal and Cere were in a heated discussion. Not loud enough to be shouting, but enough that anyone with a hint of common sense could feel the tension in the air.

Cal stood with his arms crossed, jaw clenched. Cere was sitting, eyes fixed on the cockpit table as if she wanted to burn a hole through it with her gaze.

—Perfect —I muttered to myself—. Not even a day here, and there's already drama.

I headed toward the kitchen, deliberately ignoring the argument.

At least, until the four-armed Latero decided it was my problem.

—Hey, new guy —Greez's voice pulled me from my thoughts as he leaned on the kitchen counter—. Why don't you go talk to them?

I raised an eyebrow and took a seat, biting into something that looked like bread. The best meal I'd had in weeks.

—Why would I do that?

Greez sighed and sat beside me.

—Because this is going to drive me insane if it keeps up —he grumbled, rubbing his face with one of his hands—. Besides, it's Jedi business. I don't get any of that fate, Force, all-seeing-energy stuff.

I let out a sarcastic snort.

—And you assume I do.

—Don't you? —he asked, nodding toward my lightsaber with one of his many hands.

I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I focused on my food, chewing slowly as my mind drifted.

Five years.

Five years since the purge. Since the Order fell and the Jedi ceased to exist. Five years of hiding, wandering aimlessly, selling my skills to the highest bidder—not out of greed, but out of pure necessity. I never liked the idea of settling down on a farm like some tried to do. Too monotonous, too dull.

The thrill of danger, the uncertainty of each mission, the possibility of dying any day… That's what kept me alive. Ironic, considering that when I was young, I despised my life in the Order, yearning for peace.

And now I was here.

On a ship, caught between a former Jedi Master and a stubborn Padawan, with the proposition of playing mediator in a relationship that was clearly fractured.

All for a decent breakfast.

Was it really worth it?

I muttered to myself with a faint, bitter smile.

—Maybe.

————

Uhhh it's coooming!