The Flower
"So. What did Cal say about me?"
Anna stands fidgeting awkwardly with the end of her braid as Cere Junda slowly pivots the seat at the comms station around to face her. The short-haired woman is dressed in simple grey robes under a thin leather vest that reaches just above her waist. Her severe expression has Anna immediately feeling very, very small.
Cere doesn't have to know that, though.
Clearing her throat, Anna straightens her back, trying to get her face to match Cere's stern expression.
"Ahem. Cal said you might know about my missing memories." Her voice cracks slightly, and she resists the urge to wince. "He said you used to be a Jedi."
Cere raises an eyebrow.
"Did he tell you why I stopped?"
Anna shakes her head.
Cere nods, but offers nothing further on the subject. Instead, she leans forward with her hands on her knees, her expression softening as she holds Anna's gaze.
"Why don't you tell me about these missing memories of yours?"
A large part of Anna wishes Cal was here to explain things to Cere. Something about the older woman screams that her bad side is wicked dangerous. Unfortunately, Cal is off making repairs to his lightsaber—probably thanks to Anna's theatrics yesterday. Oops.
"Honestly, I don't know that much about it," she begins hesitantly, brushing stray strands of hair behind her ear. "I don't remember my parents, or anyone ever taking care of me. I can't remember ever not being on my own, but I know that's impossible—I had to come from somewhere, right? Random orphan babies don't survive long out here."
"Do you remember anything at all from before?" A crease forms in Cere's brow.
"I remember my name," Anna answers hesitantly. "Also, Sir Jorgenbjorgen was with me when I first woke up." She holds up the finger-sized doll. "I named him after, though. He probably had a different name before."
The corners of Cere's eyes crinkle with amusement, softening her expression further..
"I do remember other things sometimes… although I don't know if remember is the right word. I get these dreams. Nightmares, mostly. I never remember much of what actually happens, but there's usually fire and screaming."
Anna swallows, feeling her face fall as the scenes from last night's dream replay in her mind.
"I remember the dream I had last night very clearly, though. There were stormtroopers. I think I saw my father. He was attacked by someone in all black with a red lightsaber."
Immediately, the colour seems to drain from Cere's face.
"How old are you, Anna?" she asks abruptly, her voice suddenly strained.
"Eighteen? Nineteen? I don't know my birthday, but that's-"
"How far back can you remember?" Cere interrupts.
"Thirteen years or so?" The sudden intensity in the woman's expression is making Anna uneasy. "Why?"
Cere takes a deep breath before she speaks.
"BD-1, show Anna your footage of Darth Vader."
There's a chorus of chirps and squeaks as the droid trundles from his position on the ship's dash to hop onto the comms station control panel. The smaller of BD-1's ocular sensors begins to flash with a flickering blue light, projecting an image into the air between Anna and Cere. A caped figure appears covered from head to toe in shining black, its face completely encased in a gleaming helmet. A mask with wide eyepieces and a large, triangular respirator glares toward Anna in a frozen expression of terrible malice.
"You would be wise to surrender," intones a deep, commanding voice through BD-1's audio projectors.
The hum of the red lightsaber cuts through Anna's memory. Chills run down her arms as she continues to stare at the masked man. Without a doubt, this is the dark shadow from her dream.
The hologram fizzles out as BD-1 gives a quick shake of his head. Cere studies Anna's face with searching eyes.
"You saw him, didn't you," she states softly. It isn't a question.
Anna nods numbly. "Who is that?"
Cere's eyes harden.
"The fall of the Galactic Republic fourteen years ago was orchestrated by one of the Senate's chancellors, a Sith Lord in disguise. As part of his plot, this Sith turned one of our finest Jedi Knights to the Dark Side and tasked him with the eradication of all Force users who could stand against the Sith. That fallen Jedi's name is Darth Vader."
Cere gestures to the air where the hologram used to be.
"Vader is still out there. He leads the armies of the Empire, subjugating worlds to Imperial rule by terror and force."
The woman's words ricochet within the confines of Anna's skull, their echoes magnifying in volume until she feels like she'll explode from all the new questions she has no answers for.
She paces up and down the narrow strip of cockpit floor. Her home attacked by stormtroopers, her father crossing blades with a fallen Jedi… and not a scrap of it remains in her memory.
"Was my father a Jedi?" she blurts out. As the question leaves her tongue, she feels a thrill of excitement at the possibility.
"Not likely," Cere states. "Except in some extreme circumstances, Jedi abide by an oath of celibacy. Jedi do not become fathers."
Anna can't help her heart from sinking a little. Back to square one.
Cere places a thoughtful hand on her chin.
"What else do you remember from your dream? Were there any landmarks, flags, insignias—anything that could identify where this attack was taking place?"
Explosions flash again behind Anna's eyes. She sees the shrapnel, the blaster fire, the suffocating smoke.
Her eyes widen as she sees the golden flower burning atop a flagpole.
"I remember a flag!" she shouts excitedly. "A flag with a golden flower. It had three petals and some leaves sticking out the bottom."
"Can you reproduce it?"
Cere retrieves a small datapad from the comms station dash and thrusts it into Anna's hands.
Anna stares intently down at the tablet, holding desperately to the image of the flag in her mind. Her tongue sticks out the corner of her mouth as she slides her fingers carefully over the gridded blue screen. Her breathing slows as she focuses on the task. She's always loved drawing—in a life of hard floors and tarnished walls, sometimes the only escape to a better one is through her own imagination.
This time, though, the picture forming under her fingers might be something real.
Slowly, the form of the flower takes shape on the screen: three wide petals sprouting up from a narrow stem with two leaves.
"Something like this," she says, handing back the datapad.
Cere raises her eyebrows in approval as she studies the drawing.
"You've got a keen hand there. Let's see if it matches anything in the database."
She swings her seat back around and slots the datapad into a matching port on the control panel, her practiced fingers flying over the keys on the holopad. The terminal fills with columns of green text as a thin white line begins scanning over the symbol drawn on the datapad. Anna bites her lip in anticipation as she watches the line sweep down the petals of the flower.
As the line reaches the bottom of the datapad, the text begins to fade from the terminal chunk by chunk until only a handful of labels remain on screen. Cere leans forward, swiping at the text with her finger.
"Do any of these look like what you saw?"
Anna watches as the boxes of text expand into full articles embedded with unfamiliar images. As she continues to read, the spark of hope in her chest sputters. None of the symbols on display look like the flag from her dream at all.
"What does it mean if you can't find it in the database?" she asks quietly. "Did… did I imagine the whole thing?"
But no, that's just impossible. She knows this was more than a dream, it has to be. She didn't dream up that fallen Jedi.
Cere turns back from the terminal.
"You didn't dream up Darth Vader," she echoes. "Have you ever seen him outside of that dream?"
"No." She certainly wouldn't have forgotten something like that.
"I didn't think so. Not many survive such an encounter." Cere purses her lips tightly. "This is certainly strange. I've been intercepting transmissions from encrypted Imperial lines every year since the Purge and all of them have been aggregated in this database. If this attack truly happened within your lifetime, it was something that even high-ranking officers were kept in the dark about."
"What does that mean?" Anna's heart thumps harder in her chest.
"It means that either you somehow have someone else's memories… or the Empire was trying really hard to keep the events of your dream from ever coming to light. Honestly, I don't know which is more likely at this point. I wish…"
Cere's voice trails off. Then something strange happens. The intrigued light in her dark eyes is replaced by something colder, guarded, aloof. The woman sighs and clears the comms station monitor with the press of a button.
"Either way, the trail's cold. There's nothing else I can do for you. I'm sorry, Anna."
"What?" Anna sputters in shock. "You're just giving up? There has to be a million other databases in the galaxy! Surely at least one of them-"
"Anna, believe me, if the Republic were still standing, I would have scoured the entire Jedi Temple archives for you. But there is no Jedi Order anymore. We have no resources, no reinforcements. We're nothing but wanted fugitives now."
Her father's face flashes again, bleeding, tear-stained, and so, so close. As she watches Cere's unreadable expression, Anna feels the opportunity slipping from her fingertips.
"So that's it?" Desperation drives her voice higher. "Why even explain all that to me if you weren't going to help me in the first place?"
"I'm sorry, child." Cere's voice is firm. "I'm sorry that we dragged you into this world, and for what it's worth, I'm sorry for giving you hope. But the Empire is all that there is now, do you understand? The only way we can stand against them now is to survive." She sighs—a harsh, bitter sound. "I don't know why you can't remember your past, but if I had to guess, someone or something was trying to protect you. You've already escaped Vader once, Anna. Maybe it's best if you let the past go."
Tears of frustration blur Anna's vision.
"How can you say that?" she hisses through trembling lips. "I've lived my whole life wondering what my purpose in this shithole of a galaxy is, and now when I finally have a chance to find out you tell me to just let it go?"
"Yes."
There is pain in Cere's eyes, but her gaze is resolute, unwavering. Something breaks inside Anna at the finality in the woman's tone.
"Fine. Guess I'll go back to scrounging in the dirt!"
She storms out of the cockpit, hugging herself tightly as her tears begin to spill over. She doesn't know where she's trying to go, but the ship isn't that big and she inevitably finds herself back in the narrow hallway leading to the crew quarters. Sniffling, she punches random buttons on the keypad, dashing for her bedroom the instant the door to her quarters slides open.
She slams straight into Cal Kestis on his way back from the engine bay.
"Whoa, hey!" Cal's lightsaber clatters from his hands in surprise. "Watch where you're going!"
Anna tries to shoulder past him, but he catches her by the arm.
"Anna, wait, is something wrong?" The concern in Cal's voice falls flat on Anna's ears.
"Let go of me," she growls, jerking her arm out of his grip. Walking stiffly to the bed, she drops herself heavily onto the mattress, burying her face in her hands as she bites back sobs.
A rapid pitter-patter registers in her ears. She feels a weight on her leg as small metal feet press into her thigh. Cracking her eyes open, she finds BD-1's trapezoidal face gazing up at her, his larger eye extending and retracting as he tilts his head this way and that. With a soft series of chirps, the little droid nuzzles up into the crook of her elbow.
"Hi, little guy," Anna whispers.
"Conversation with Cere not go so well?" Cal asks softly. She can see him standing awkwardly in the doorway in her peripheral vision.
"Yeah, you could say that," she mutters, keeping her eyes fixed on BD-1. Her hand moves to stroke one of his antennae. She focuses on the droid's comforting presence, trying to smother the frustration still burning in her chest.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Anna smears the moisture across her cheeks with her sleeves, wishing the leather of the jacket was better at absorbing water.
"What are you guys?" She glances up at Cal, her jaw clenched. "You said Jedi don't exist anymore, and you're definitely not bounty hunters, so what are you, then? What's your purpose?"
Her words must have come out sharper than she intended, because Cal drops his gaze toward the floor.
"We're survivors," he replies after a pause. "We're a crew. We look out for each other. We help others when we can, but our own survival comes first. That's the rule." He looks down at his hands, clipping the lightsaber back onto his belt with much more care than is necessary. "It's been the rule since Merrin… left," he adds in a quieter voice.
This time, the pain in the words manages to cut through Anna's own. Needles of guilt pierce through her anger. How could she have forgotten about Merrin? She's still wearing her coat.
"What's gotten you so upset, anyway?" Cal asks in a harder tone, folding his arms over his chest.
Anna leans forward on the edge of the bed. She doesn't speak for several breaths.
"I learned something about my dream. The man I saw attacking my father, he's someone called Darth Vader. I remembered something else, too, a symbol of a flower. If I can find out more about that symbol, it could lead to the answers behind my missing memories!" She sighs. "But Cere couldn't find the symbol in the database. She said I should let go of the past."
BD-1 trills a short message.
"You still want to find this flower, don't you?" Cal says in a low voice.
"Yes. More than anything." Anna clenches her hands into fists. "I want to know why I was abandoned. I want to know what happened to my parents." Her voice takes on a pleading tone as she raises her gaze to meet his. "You said you would take me wherever I wanted to go, didn't you? Well, wherever I can find out more about that flower, that's where I want to go."
She leaps to her feet.
"Look, all I know is I'm so tired of just surviving. Just do this one thing for me, please. After that, I… I'll find a way to pay you off, I promise. I can work in your crew! I'm handy with a slicing kit, I can fix basic circuits, I could even learn to maintain the hyperdrive…"
Her words trail off as Cal continues to regard her silently, her gesticulating hands freezing in mid-air. There's a strange light in the Jedi's eyes as he holds her gaze. The gentle creak of the hull around them as it's battered by Dathomir's winds is the only sound in the room. Just when Anna thinks the silence will suffocate them both, Cal exhales a long breath.
"Alright. I think I need to call a meeting."
The familiar glow of the lounge table illuminates the assortment of individuals seated around it in a pallid light. The lighting strips lining the walls of the cabin hum softly in the background, drilling into Anna's awareness.
She's not been this tense since she held Cal at gunpoint. Her eyes flit quickly between the solemn faces surrounding her and she fights the urge to draw her knees to her chest. It's the first time she's sat down with all of the Mantis's crew at once, and the fact that they're here to talk about her does nothing to help her nerves. She watches Cal run a hand through his red hair, while on the other side of the table Cere sits still and emotionless as a statue.
Greez clears his throat pointedly.
"So, can we see what this flower thing looks like?"
Wordlessly, Cere drops the datapad onto the table. The white outline of the Crocus shines up from the flickering blue screen, its reflection dancing from three pairs of eyes.
"Hmm, definitely never seen anything like that before," Cal mutters.
"Doesn't match anything on record," Cere states matter-of-factly.
Greez looks back and forth between Cal and Cere, folding his upper arms with a scowl.
"Alright, spit it out. Why are you two glaring at each other like you stole each other's lunch?"
"Because Cal Kestis is being a hypocrite," Cere growls. She turns her shoulders to face the redheaded man directly. "You were the one who said we are to lay low. Avoid detection. Survive. Yet your actions have been nothing but reckless of late."
The sudden ire in Cere's normally calm voice has Anna unconsciously moving backward in her seat. Cal, however, leans forward with his hands on his knees, meeting Cere's stare with a steady gaze of his own.
"What was I supposed to do, Cere? You heard that transmission. You were the one who called me over to make the decision, and I chose to try."
"No, Cal." Cere shakes her head slowly, deliberately. "You didn't choose to try. You gave up that choice when you destroyed the holocron. Their destiny should be trusted to the Force, that's what you said!" She takes a few breaths before continuing in a calmer tone. "We are few. If Merrin's loss has taught us anything, it's that we can't afford to take risks."
"Merrin could still be alive." Cal's voice is quiet. Greez looks down at the floor. Cere stares back in silence. Cal throws his arms in the air. "Cere, neither of us is good at sitting back and doing nothing! You know this."
"We've been doing nothing for three years, Cal!" Cere shouts, her face stretched taut with anger. "We've been chasing rumours from system to system, trying to put out fires as they start. Do you know what our success rate for rescuing Force-sensitives from Imperial death squads is? Because I've been keeping track, and it's twenty-one percent. One in five, Cal!" Tears glisten in the former Jedi's eyes. "With the names on that list, we could have saved them. We could have saved them all."
Cal's fists are clenched so hard that Anna can see the white of his knuckles on his ungloved hand. When he speaks, his voice is soft.
"You didn't see what I saw in the Vault, Cere. If we'd used the holocron, we would have condemned every name on that list to a life of torture and darkness."
Anna shoots a panicked glance toward Greez. The Latero gives her a small shrug in response, his wide mouth drawn into a weary line of acceptance. This clearly isn't the first time the captain has heard this particular conversation.
Cere and Cal stare at each other tensely. Finally, Cere slumps back in her seat, the sharpness fading from her eyes.
"We used to have a higher purpose than survival, Cal. But without the holocron, there is none."
"What if she's our higher purpose?"
Wait, what?
Anna jerks her head up in shock, finding Cal gesturing in her direction with an open palm.
"Me?" The word leaves her mouth before she can snap it shut.
"She's Force-sensitive, Cere. I felt it. Her connection to the Force is… severed. Repressed, somehow. But not by her." Cal turns to meet Anna's gaze. "I don't think our meeting was an accident, Anna. I think the Force brought you to us."
Anna blinks. Could her chance encounter with the Mantis really have been because of the Force? She chose to stow away on this yacht, after all, not some mysterious energy field. She peeks at Cere, convinced that she's about to launch a rebuttal, but the other woman remains pensively silent.
"This is about more than just survival now," Cal continues urgently. "Cere, three years ago you dragged me out of a dark place on Bracca. It's time we passed on the favour."
Cere stares back at Cal with an unreadable expression. Anna can't help but shrink from the woman's cold, piercing gaze when she directs it toward her.
"Trust only in the Force," Cal says under his breath. "Remember?"
To Anna's surprise, Cere lowers her chin in the smallest of nods. The other woman takes a deep breath, placing her hands flat on the table as she fixes her eyes on Anna.
"Anna, if you start down this path, there will be no going back. Once you get on the Empire's radar, you will be hunted. I'm going to be honest, I don't think that's a fight any of us can win anymore. But Cal's right. This isn't my choice, it's yours. Choose carefully, child."
Cere's jaw is set in an expression of begrudging acceptance. Anna looks around at the other faces at the table. Cal offers a weak smile, but there's a glimmer of uncertainty in his green eyes. Greez continues to stare at the datapad on the table with his hands at his hips, not meeting anyone's gaze.
She takes a nervous breath.
"You don't have to protect me. I'm not afraid." Her voice is barely above a whisper, but she keeps it steady, resolute. She points toward the datapad. "I've lived my entire life with a hole in my head. I want to find out what happened to my parents. I want to find out who I am. And that starts with figuring out what that symbol means."
Cere nods, closing her eyes.
"Very well."
There's a hardness to the woman's voice that sets Anna on edge despite her victory. Cere glances around to the other crew members.
"Where do we begin?"
Greez scratches a scruffy mutton chop with one of his many hands.
"I might know a guy."
Thanks for sticking with me this far! In the immortal words of Anakin Skywalker, this is where the fun begins ;)