The wind was colder than usual, and on this desolate planet, the land seemed dead. With the recent deterioration of the crust, it may as well be.
It was still bright. The sun shone unimpaired by clouds or buildings, for the once magnificent city of crystal towers had long since been reduced to fields of jutting metal. Regardless of the light, warmth was absent. Only the most hardy of creatures and hardier of sentients managed to make a living here, where the chill numbed well-covered fingers and bit exposed noses. Warm weather was rare, and vegetation rarer. The barren land was unforgiving to its humble inhabitants.
Still, hope persevered in flakes. Stories of the Jedi—branded traitors by the Empire and saviors to a selected few—and the rebel army gave a little respite to the weary souls. They were mostly wiped out, but rumors of some surviving the purge made its way to the broken world. Katara was one of the few that continued to believe they were out there, preparing to strike back and free the galaxy.
Until that day came, however, hope was all she had.
-.-.-.-.-.-
"I've been on this route a hundred times, and that wasn't there before."
Katara squinted as she took in the ship. She was confident in Sokka's sense of direction and knowledge of the environment. Charting and reading maps had always been his forte. An unknown ship, especially one as big as this, meant it would be relatively untouched by scavengers and traders. Sokka, who was suspicious of the sight, approached cautiously.
"The quake must have unearthed it," Katara replied, jumping down to meet him. "How much of it do you think we can sell?"
Sokka touched the hull and smiled. "Enough for a month? Maybe more." He brushed a hand against the panel and pulled out his vibroblade. "Shouldn't take long."
He slid the tip between the casing, flicked it open, and rewired the controls. As soon as he was done, he jabbed a small power cell against the door and the ship shuddered to life, permitting them entry. Katara had seen it a dozen times, but she never really understood how Sokka managed to do it.
"And done. Let's hurry before anyone else finds this dump."
Shifting their packs, they got to work. Any parts intact and usable were added onto the impressive pile. In only a few minutes, Katara's makeshift sled was full of generators, pipes, and cooling units. Sokka might have underestimated how much this dump was worth.
She peered down the corridor they hadn't yet ventured. The other side was hidden in the shadows, making it difficult to discern how far it stretched. Taking a flashlight from her pack, Katara stepped forward. The air was stale and foreboding. The deeper she went, the more her stomach knotted, as if a trap awaited her.
It took a while to reach the end. Her worries were unfounded, as were her expectations. There was nothing there. No door, cabinet, lever, or any other indication of something ahead. The walls were bare save a few scratches and rust. Oh well, they had plenty from the open compartments.
Just as she turned, her footsteps against the floor gave an empty ring.
Blinking, Katara stomped her foot a couple times to be certain, and sure enough, the floor was hollow. It didn't take long to find the telling lines of the trapdoor.
"Sokka, I found something!"
The corridor echoed her words and brought them back to the hull where Sokka was securing the items to bring back home. He perked up at his name, quickly tied off the rope, and slinked into the hall.
Katara pushed against the trapdoor until it opened, sliding away to reveal a dimly lit room wafting with a pale fog. Sokka was with her in seconds, and together, they descended.
"What is this place?"
Sokka looked around and clicked on his own flashlight. "I'm not sure. A storage room, perhaps?"
Neither commented on how unlikely that was and started roaming the room in opposite directions. The whole ambiance was depressing. Large planks of metal (carbonite?) stood scattered between empty shelves, almost like gravestones or monuments. Each one was smooth and preserved in a layer of cold.
She couldn't explain why, but it felt like death or decay hung off their frames. A spark of feeling intertwined with the dark and pushed her along toward something both familiar and alien.
Katara stopped and brought her flashlight up. This one was most definitely not smooth. The statue took the shape of a human boy a year or two younger than her. He looked peaceful enough, but the mouth was parted in shock.
He was alive and aware before the carbonite entrapped him. Maybe this was where the feeling came from. She had to get him out, if only to give him a proper burial.
"Sokka!" she called out as she fiddled with the buttons on the sides.
The casing responded and slacked with a hiss, loosening from the carbonite and quickly thawing it out. Sokka arrived just as the white smoke lifted and the boy fell from the block.
Katara caught him before he dropped to the floor and spotted a long metal stick skidding out from his robes.
Even with the colorless carbonite, the boy was unusual. Now that she looked at him and could see the blue arrow marking on his forehead beneath his short hair and thin braid, along with the light clothing for someone on S-Pole, he stood out all the more. His breathing was shallow, but the fact that he was breathing at all was a miracle.
Sokka, ever the skeptic, kept his distance and poked him with the tip of his flashlight.
"Really?" she hissed at him.
"Who knows, he might be Imperial."
"He needs help."
Gray eyes fluttered open with a groan, startling Katara into dropping the boy. Having lost the support, he fell to the floor (gracefully, somehow). His legs caught onto the long fabric of his robes and he struggled to get back up, his eyes milky and senses uncoordinated.
"I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Katara asked, helping the boy up. Sokka frowned from behind her and discreetly reached for his vibroblade. She shook her head, which did little to stop him.
"I'm fine. Sorry, I didn't know the chamber was active when I came in."
"You don't say," Sokka scoffed. "I thought carbon-freezing has a low survival rate."
"I guess I'm pretty lucky, then."
The boy hopped out of Katara's arms and stretched. His breathing caught up quickly and the signs of carbon-freezing wore off. He rubbed his eyes a few times, blinked, and glanced around. The film that seemed to coat his irises were gone, and the stiffness in his stance loosened completely. It was as if he was never frozen at all.
"I wonder how long I've been gone. Master must be furious." He turned to them. "I really owe you guys. Thank you."
Katara relaxed and shifted her flashlight. "We were just passing by, but you're welcome. I'm Katara, by the way. That's Sokka."
Sokka absently raised the hand that wasn't holding the vibroblade. Then stopped short. "Hey, wait. Who are you, how did you get here, are you Imperial, why should we trust you, and what kind of hairstyle is that?"
"Uh, well." He started counting his fingers. "I'm Aang, I kinda got lost, not sure what Imperial refers to, because I'm a fun guy to have around, and—" he brought a hand to his head, "what's wrong with my hair?"
The ship rocked suddenly, halting whatever interrogation Sokka had planned. Loose panels hung from the ceiling and threatened to crush them.
"Kriff, it's another quake," Sokka cursed, already moving towards the corridor. He placed a hand on Katara's shoulder and pulled her into action. "We gotta go."
She and Aang followed obediently. On her way out, Katara picked up the strange stick from earlier and tucked it into her pack.
"This way, hurry!"
Another harsh tremor shook the ship and broke a few panels. One was falling above the path Sokka was taking, and he hadn't even noticed it. For a moment, Katara's voice failed her, then the time seemed to stop. She tensed as it closed in, holding out the seconds until it felt like forever.
He slowed once he realized his mistake, a mistake she could have warned him about (although it wouldn't have made much of a difference), but it was too late for him to stop and he didn't have enough time to make it across.
Then the panel floated in midair long enough for Sokka to continue unscathed.
As soon as he got to the base of the ladder, he looked back. "What the—" he mouthed. Katara followed his gaze and stopped dead in her tracks.
Aang waved his hand and the panels moved accordingly, providing them all safe passage. It was effortless and natural. Despite the rumbling outside and the instability of the ship, he was calm. He exuded tangible peace in the otherwise hazardous situation, a light smile on his lips even after she was sure Sokka would…
Her disbelief must have shown on her face, because he stopped next to her and furrowed his brows.
"Is something wrong?"
"You're a Jedi," she breathed.
His smile returned. "Sure am. Need any help getting out?"
Without her prompting, he picked her up and leapt past the rest of the room, forgoing the ladders completely when he reached it and easily jumping up to the trapdoor. Once he set her down and Sokka reached the top, they made their way out with their sled full of trinkets.
It wasn't until they escaped the ship that Katara noticed how it had stayed upright without the support of the ground. It only took a glance to realize Aang was keeping the ship together while they were inside, and once they stepped a reasonably safe distance away, he let it fall. The act didn't even strain him. The carbon chamber didn't faze him.
So this was the power of a Jedi.
The boy no longer looked so small. The calm and peace flowing from him felt wise. The robes looked aged and his stance steady. He didn't flinch when the dust and cold came. It truly seemed like Aang was the galaxy's chosen savior, the last of the Jedi, forged from generations of peacemakers and bridges between worlds.
Then, with one question, all the bravado he appeared to have faltered.
"How did you survive the purge?"
Aang blinked and, after a second, laughed nervously. "Purge? What are you talking about?"
Katara bit her lip and looked at Sokka for assistance. She hadn't meant to ask so blatantly. Obviously, the event would have been traumatic, and given his age, he must have been extremely young when it happened (or he might not have existed yet). To ask how he survived his people's genocide was not the most tactful thing she could have done.
"What purge?" he asked again, more forcefully. She could sense his fear as he looked between her and Sokka. "What happened?"
"What's happening in the Republic right now?" Sokka asked, already catching onto something Katara hadn't yet. She half expected Aang to correct him with a "you mean Empire," because the Republic fell over a decade ago.
Instead, Aang answered easily. "Naboo was invaded, and the Senate just nominated Sheev Palpatine as chancellor. Why?"
"The ship you were trapped in has to have been decades old."
Aang shrugged, "Probably because it is. What were you saying about the—"
Katara stepped forward before Sokka could continue. "Aang, how long do you think you were in carbonite?"
"A few days? Maybe a week? But what does this have to do with…?" his voice faded. He looked from Katara to Sokka and took a step back. "It's been more than a few days, hasn't it?"
"Palpatine was elected Chancellor almost thirty years ago," Sokka answered. "He made himself emperor fifteen years later."
Katara felt a whirlwind of disbelief-pain-grief pouring out from Aang.
"Thirty years?!" he stumbled away from them. "Y-you're not… I can tell you're not lying, but… And you said… oh Force."
Feeling others' emotions was normal for Katara, but this was too much. She could feel everything Aang was feeling with more clarity than she was used to. Sokka and her father weren't particularly reserved with their emotions, but compared to them, Aang was a maelstrom.
Sokka was telling Aang something, not that she heard it. The emotions lashed out stronger than Katara ever experienced, even when mom died. She heard yelling, though that was muted beneath the denial-guilt-despair.
Then, there was nothing.
It was clear that Aang was still struggling, but the projections stopped, locked behind walls of durasteel. When she got her bearings, Katara realized Sokka was threatening Aang, who was staring at her in a mixture of wonder, relief, and sadness.
"Katara! Are you okay?" Sokka called to her, his grip around Aang's collar tightening. "What did you do?"
"I—"
"I'm fine, Sokka. It's gone," she placated. "Put Aang down."
It took a few seconds of Sokka grumbling, but he did as she said. "What was that?"
"You're Force sensitive," Aang all but whispered.
"She's what?"
He took a breath and reached out. Sokka moved to intercept but Katara waved him away, letting Aang touch her hand.
"The Force is an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds and penetrates us. It binds the universe together," he recited.
"So, what. It's some higher being voodoo with no sense of privacy?" Sokka asked, crossing his arms with indignance.
"No. Well, I guess you could say that. It's what lets me hold the ship without touching it and feel what others are feeling." The last part was directed at Katara. "I could teach you how to shield from it."
"Like how you did? Real nice," Sokka growled.
Aang winced and held up his hands. "I'm sorry, I lost control. I didn't realize there was another Force sensitive here."
"You don't have to apologize for that. I know what it's like to grieve."
A flash of pain broke through just strong enough for Katara to pick it up, but it was reeled in quickly. "Thank you."
Sokka squinted at him before moving to Katara's side. "The other scavengers should be returning about now. We better get somewhere safe before they see us."
"I can—" Aang cut himself off as he patted his robes and rummaged through his pockets. "I must have dropped it."
He turned to the ship they had just escaped, his indecision making him jittery.
"Are you coming?" Sokka asked impatiently, already halfway up the mound of metal. Katara noticed his actions and, putting two and two together, took the stick out from her pack.
She offered it to Aang. "Is this what you're looking for?"
He blinked at the object. "Thanks," he said, taking it from her (more like snatching it) and clipping it to his belt.
The walk home was quiet. Katara snuck glances at Aang, wondering how he could possibly move on so easily. She couldn't feel anything from him, and his expression was blank. He felt oddly peaceful. Sokka kept looking back, a faint ring of worry betraying his mostly nonchalant attitude. Neither sibling brought anything up.
When Aang caught her staring, he flashed her an empty smile. The look sent a shiver through her, like he could see and feel and understand everything about her, but nothing vice versa.
"Can you teach me?" she asked when their gazes held a bit too long.
"Of course."
They arrived back at their tent without another word, hours spent in silence. The sun had already reached the horizon.
Sokka shrugged off his pack before starting the heater. Wheeling in their pile of scraps, he set to work dividing and managing the parts. Katara shuffled in after him and started preparing a meal, half wondering if what they had at hand could feed the extra mouth.
Instead of following them into the humble home, Aang stayed by the entrance, his hand on the stick by his waist.
"You can come in, you know," Sokka huffed when he noticed.
"The Force is… it's crying." Aang turned to Katara. "Do you feel it?"
Katara furrowed her brows and closed her eyes. All she felt was the cold, the absence of emotion from Aang, and Sokka's growing skepticism… wait, there was something else. In the cold, there was something that simply felt wrong. It had always been there, but it was stronger now. She couldn't describe what the wrong in the cold felt like, but crying did seem accurate.
"I think so."
"It's the Dark Side," Aang said, as if Sokka and Katara would know what that was. He moved away from the entrance and out of view.
A billow of wind blew the curtains around them, and when Katara peeked outside, she found Aang a long distance away, his robes' hood pulled over his head and his stick in his hand pointed outward.
Before she could call for him, a wave of darkness hit her. From where Aang was standing, a ship descended.
"Sokka." Her voice was hoarse, but he heard her nonetheless. He got up, rolling his eyes. But when he saw what she saw, his face paled and he gulped.
"A TIE Fighter."
It was the same type as the one that came the day her mother died. She could never forget the curved wings, and the red that came with it. And her mother's body after the red went through her.
Now Aang was standing there, in the same place Katara remembered her mother being in. The hatch opened with steam enveloping him.
"Sokka," she repeated.
"I know. I know. Just—" he sucked in a breath and clutched his vibroblade. "Dank farrik."
When the red ignited in the smoke, Katara thought it was over.
-.-.-.-.-.-
Aang watched the hatch open, preparing himself for the incoming darkness. His lightsaber sat snugly in his hand, unignited but ready if need be.
After hearing about the purge, he let his emotions slip. It didn't feel real, because how could it be when he had just run away from the temple brimming with life, light, and other Jedi? While the temple was home to many, the Jedi stretched across the universe, either on missions or traveling like Aang and his Master were.
It occurred to him on the way to Sokka and Katara's home that if his kind really was wiped out, it must have been by other Force users, those that could track signatures of other Force sensitives, Dark Side users.
He put the siblings in danger by losing control. There was nothing louder to Force sensitives than the surge of raw emotion from another.
A figure all dressed in black save for the red visor stepped out of the ship. Aang's hand tightened around his lightsaber.
"A little young," the man clicked his tongue, igniting his own. Red light burst from the hilt. "Let's hope you're a challenge."
"What do you want?"
From beneath the mask, amusement slipped through. Aang could tell it was intentional. "Isn't it obvious? I'm here to kill you."
Aang tensed.
And in a movement almost too quick to react, the man closed the distance with a strike aimed at his chest.
Aang ducked and used his free hand to redirect the direction of the swing. The slight change let him get behind his attacker, and from there, he used what he was taught. His motions synchronized with the man's, keeping him out of danger.
Gyatso showed him how to avoid and evade, tiring out his opponent and using their aggression against them all without drawing his lightsaber. The weight in his hand was only a precaution.
A harsh tug from the Force made him stumble and only narrowly miss the incoming weapon. The heat of the blade singed his robes.
Using the momentum from his fall and the man's forward steps, Aang slid under him and regained his position, heart pounding and reality blinding.
This wasn't a spar. He could die here.
Rather than continue his efforts, the man leapt forward and turned to face Aang. "You're an Aehr Nomad."
The hood must have fallen during the brief bout, the blue markings uncovered for the man to see.
"An Aehroan and a Jedi. Well, aren't you a rare find?" he laughed, twirling the red blade. "Didn't Aehr blow up a century ago? I wasn't aware there were any of you left."
Aang didn't know much about his home planet, only that the people there convened with spirits. The jab didn't hurt him, but the reminder that he was among the last in not only one but two peoples did.
"Yeah," the man continued. "I was there when we killed the last Aehr Jedi."
The last—
Aang's breath caught in his throat. The only other Aehr Jedi he knew of was Gyatso, the man who took him under his wing and taught him so much more than how to be a Jedi. A gentle father figure Aang had always looked up to.
"That old man was hardly any fun. It's a shame I couldn't keep his head."
Forgetting himself, Aang ignited his saber. Anger powered his strike as he replicated the Dark Side user's first move. The Force was on his side, as was the wind.
Suddenly on the defensive, the man lost his footing. His confidence failed him as the small but swift boy struck again and again. The steam and dust around them lent Aang obscurity, and it was only by years of experience that the man survived as long as he did.
Had he paid attention to the surroundings rather than solely on Aang, the man would have noticed the jutting metal he was backing into. When he did notice, it was too late.
One final push in the Force from Aang ended it.
-.-.-.-.-.-
After the dust settled, Katara expected to find the red wielder victorious, standing over Aang's fallen body. Instead, she saw Aang kneeling before a man impaled upon the metal terrain. Besides a sharp sting of anger only seconds ago, she could sense nothing from Aang. It was frightening how calm he was.
Sokka was the first to recover from his shock. Taking his vibroblade with him, he ran out to Aang, patting him on the back in congratulations.
Katara stayed back to consider what had happened. She was so certain that Aang would lose, not because he wasn't strong, but because he looked like a gentle soul. She didn't think he could take a life.
When Aang followed Sokka back into the tent, she realized he hadn't either.
"What's with the grim attitude? You just got rid of an Imperial. An Inquisitor at that!"
Aang took in a shuddering breath that went unnoticed by Sokka. "I didn't mean to."
"But you did, and that's what matters," he insisted. "You did good, you know."
"Please, stop."
Sobering up, Sokka shrugged and plopped onto his mat. "Seriously, don't beat yourself about killing that guy. He literally exists to kill Jedi and rebels."
Aang furrowed his brows. "Are you rebels?"
"Our dad is a rebel leader," Katara answered, handing him a cup of water. "He told us stories about the Jedi. He said they were heroes when he was younger, back when S-Pole was still a trading hub."
"Back when the Empire didn't exist," Sokka added.
Aang nodded and took a sip. His expression blanked as he muttered, "I can't stay here."
"Why? Did we do something?"
He shook his head. "The… Inquisitor. He came for me."
Sokka shared a look with Katara before asking in a low voice mixed with doubt and wariness. "How do you know?"
"Everyone has a Force signature, and it's stronger for Force sensitives. It's easy to track if you search for it."
"But only other Force sensitives can do that, right?"
"The Inquisitor was Force sensitive. I'm willing to bet they all are," Aang said. "And I hadn't exactly shielded my presence until he came."
Sokka jumped up before Katara could find anything to say. "So you've been leading them to us the entire time?!"
"Sokka, it's not his fault," Katara defended. "He didn't know about the Inquisitors."
But if what he said was true, they should have come a long time ago. Katara never learned how to shield her prese—
Then she remembered that they did come a long time ago.
"It's my fault."
"Katara, that makes absolutely no sense."
"Mom died because of me," she said, tears in her eyes as the revelation overtook her. "An Inquisitor killed her, Sokka. And they were here because of me."
"No." Sokka took her by the shoulders and held her tight. "Katara, listen to me. What happened was not your fault. It was the Inquisitor's. It's the Empire's. They took mom away from us."
She sniffed and fought the tears but nodded. Sokka pulled her into a hug.
Aang kept quiet in the background, sipping his water and directing his attention elsewhere. Katara broke the hug, gave Sokka a reassuring smile, and turned to him.
"Take me with you."
He frowned, and she could see him trying to tell her 'no.'
"I'm coming too," Sokka said, giving her hand a squeeze. "Who knows? Maybe we'll get to see dad out there."
Unable to form a flat out rejection, Aang sighed. "I can't guarantee your protection."
"You can teach me how to protect myself."
He smiled, then frowned as a thought hit him. "The Inquisitor's ship isn't big enough for the three of us."
"It's a good thing that I've been working on something, then," Sokka cut in, going deeper into the tent until he reached a door against a metal wall leading outside. Opening it at a dramatically slow pace, he grinned. "Behold."
Aang's face brightened when he saw the shuttle. "Appa!"
"Appa? No, the name's Shipy."
"I know my ship, Sokka. That's Appa. Look," he said, excited, as he pressed a hand against the nose of the shuttle. The lights turned on as the door slid open easily, granting Aang access.
Sokka huffed and rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath, "Wow, look how clean and fixed up it is, Sokka. You did a great job repairing the broken shuttle."
"I think you did great."
"Thank you, Katara," he said sincerely. "Come on, help me put stuff inside. We might as well trade the loot before going out into the galaxy."
-.-.-.-.-.-
Somewhere else, a scarred boy put his tracker away. His hand sought his weapons and he fastened on his flamethrower. A new bounty came in, one that he'd been ordered to do anyway by the empire for the last three years.
Only now did he have somewhere to start: S-Pole, a backwater planet on the verge of collapse.
Putting on his helmet, Zuko set out for his target.