Beyond the city of Aradia, the tall yellow grass tickles F's waving hand. It is a welcomed change from the streets and buildings. In the open field, gently flickering with the Force, F even feels a moment of reprieve from all the galaxy's troubles.
Like all moments, it is sadly brief.
F sighs at the fact and slings on her makeshift duffel bag. What little she owns jostles slightly before resting on her shoulder. The grass still rustles from F's boots and cloak, as she readies herself for the journey ahead. She spares the city of Aradia one last look, engraving its walls and buildings, and its people into her mind.
Then, F ventures off towards the sunlit horizon and the trouble lying beyond it.
Episode 3: To Freedom
The air is peacefully silent as F steadily walks down a small hill, following an old trail through the flat and seemingly endless grasslands. The path leads to a lush forest ahead; the thought of what fruits it may hold makes F's stomach growl. Her surroundings thankfully keep her mind off it, thanks to the big blue sky above and the strange crops which her fingers brush against. A distant hum disturbs them all.
Snapping back to reality, F drops into the tall grass for cover from a strong gust of wind and the ever-increasing buzz. She squints her eyes against the sunlight till spotting Imperial ships roaming above, undoubtedly searching for her. F stays still for several minutes till the ships and their booming engines are done circling the area and finally leave. The serene silence returning, F sighs in relief before continuing her journey.
Not long afterwards, she spots a lone hut to her left. That is, if she could call it a hut. The decimation, for a lack of a better word, has left it a hollow metal shell. F soon notices it is not just the so-called hut, but how dead this particular area is. Traces of blaster ash scatter about, and evidence of crops uprooted. Wounds not so old, but not too recent either. After comparing the dead soil to the surviving scattered vegetation, and how much that's regrown, she guesses it's been at least a year if not two.
F's investigation soon leads her to unearth an old supply box. Inside, she finds, is only a torn-up doll. She gently holds the doll. She does not need the Force to deduce what happened. "A farm town once stood here, dozens of homes at least," F tells herself, more of a habit than anything. "Attackers ambushed them from all directions, pillaging everything they owned until nothing was left. If the lack of tracks is correct, then not a single person got out…"
Habit or not, F's words steel herself as she enters the forest with the doll in hand.
/-/-/-/-/
It is not long before moonlight peeks through the treeline. Lying against the base of one tree, she takes in the ray from above, her crackling campfire, and the running river nearby. Her rest stops when her ears perk, her eyes open to scan the darkness around her, but she can feel no presence. Cautiously, she walked up beside the running river, her fingertips ready to grab one of her weapons.
Hearing a rustle in a nearby bush, F extends her hand, reaches out with the Force, and lifts up what appears to be a small, harmless creature. F let out a brief chuckle at the cute thing until finding what the critter's been messing with: an old part of a ship engine. Having let go of the critter, F stares in amazement. Her eyes widen more when finds the crash site of a Y-Wing and droid starfighters, her first encounter with the remnants of the battle of Aradia.
"So much vegetation," F observes upon closer inspection. "It must have been here for three years... around the same time as the Separatist's first offenses against the core worlds." F's hand grazes over the Y-Wing's rusted frame, clearly beyond repair and missing parts inside. However, it tells F that she is on the right track. Looking at what's been taken, she recalls her time in the mid rim planet of Velmor which was one of several times she saw rural civilians scavenging droid and republic fighters. If the people here are any similar, then there must be ship scrap yards with enough parts to build an entire spacecraft.
The Y-Wing's age tells F something else: it looks older than the destroyed town. That means Separatists are not responsible for its destruction.
'And I have only seen Imperial ships,' F adds to the troubling thought as she returns to her spot to rest. 'In fact, since I left a few days ago, I haven't seen a single person out here….'
/-/-/-/-/
It is another day, another morning, and the last thing F sees before waking up was a haunting memory, one of a bright blue flash and burning flesh. Her breath quivers before her squinting eyes snap open to the morning mist covering herself. Despite another reassuring breath, F covers her eyes from the still-lingering memory. The clear morning sounds of the forest and the dying fire's warmth distract F from the nightmare, and she realizes how hungry she is.
After glancing around for assurance, F unlatches her blue mask. Once warm steam hisses out, she breathes in the cool air and grabs a fresh fruit to bite into it... before a sharp pain stings across her face. She jumps up to her feet, holding her jaw and hissing through her teeth until the terrible ache dies away.
Her breath trembles like her fingers hovering over the deep red scar on her right chin, the source of her pain. With the pain comes the memory forever burnt into her memory.
-A blue flash searing into her skull. Blood running down her left eye. The burnt smell of flesh from what was left of her nose and-
F breaths. Like within the memory, everything around her is a blur. Unlike what happened in it, she does not pass out from the pain and regains her senses. F is slow to eat again, but it is progress. At the start, she couldn't even utter a word for months without the pain of that scar and the traumatic memory returning to torture her.
In the present, F's senses are as keen as ever when she feels a disturbance, instinctively putting on her mask. Unable to tell what exactly it was, F trudges through the forest. The trek leads her beyond it, where she finds a town shortly ahead. At least, it looks like a town from afar.
Taking the lonesome road towards it, F approaches a rustic archway riddled with blaster holes and written in a local language that's barely eligible. F stares down the quiet, desolate street, sensing no life ahead, when a warning kicks in. 'Something's ahead,' she thinks.
Walking down the stone path, her eyes wander through the many blast holes and carbon scars riddling the abandoned dome shaped metal houses on either side. F turns to an empty shop, it's holographic sign fizzling, peeking inside to see it's been torched. A gross burning stench lingers inside, which F personally knows too well and leaves before it overwhelms her. F finds a damaged public water dispenser, she checks to see if it still works when she notices dried water beneath. "Someone just used this," she realizes, backing away as her eyes scan for a presence. The wind whistles blowing through the empty windows when F stops at a four-way intersection.
F's eyes spot dust suddenly being kicked up on a rooftop ahead, and her ears twitch at a bird flying away from a building behind her. Already, her hand inches for the weapon beneath her black cloak. Not her lightsaber, but something just as efficient. She eyes the doors of a two-story corner tavern to her left, which would make for better cover than the open crossroads.
Hearing a whistle, F grabs the DC-15A blaster and fires at an armed man popping out of the northeastern rooftop. She turns to see two more snipers behind her, so she quickly retreats from their shots before dispatching them as well. The blasts echo, and F whirls to the sound of another door opening.
"Don't shoot!" a voice shouts.
F's blaster halts to an open basement door on the eastern street, opposite the market building. By that door is an old man in tarnished green engineer clothes, brown gloves and cracked goggles. Though he is unharmed, his hands are still up when F lowers her guard. "Don't!" he warns. "You have only made them angry."
Now, F points her weapon to the western street upon hearing three speeders roaring towards her. She then catches sight of three more from the east and a larger two-man speeder from the north. Before F could attack, a hail of blaster bolts whiz by her and the old man, one of which destroys her blaster. The rest follows quickly, and F looks towards the market for cover.
Tapping into her power, F Force-pulls the man into her arms before dashing past the tavern doors. She puts him down behind a large counter and looks for an exit. "It can't be," says the shocked old man, "you're a-"
"Don't bother looking for an exit," a brutish voice interrupts from outside. "You have nowhere else to run. No one who so disrespectfully enters our turf leaves here alive."
Both F and the old man turn to the front entrance as vehicles pull up, over two dozen armed combatants aim at the building. F glances over to a shattered window and finds the leader. A bearded man with a patch over his right eye, as well as looking like a mish-mash of old memories to F. Though wearing mostly red ARC trooper armor, he has a prosthetic right arm made out of droid parts. The man's grin is just as ugly, and F finds much of the weapons, vehicles, and armor were either Republic or Separatist.
"Takagi," F hears the old man whisper, "I recognize that vile laugh… He won't let you leave here alive."
F looks back at the group outside, briefly gripping her lightsaber before an idea pops in her head. "Is there a way to the roof?" she asks. The old man points to the backroom behind the counter that has a ladder before F orders him to go there. She quickly scavenges the scattered supplies in the tavern to craft their ticket out of here. While doing so, she decides to buy time and shouts, "I take it you're the raiders of these lands?"
"More with the disrespectful attitude," the raider leader Takagi says. F could imagine him shaking his head about now. "We're survivors, making a living out here just like everyone one who ain't city folk or kissing the Empire's boot."
"By taking everything for yourselves? Leaving behind ghost towns that were once vibrant?" F accuses and peeks over the counter.
"Oh, don't act like we're the only ones," he says, raising his prosthetic to make his point.
"Indeed," F sighs, finishing her work, "and unlike droids, you can be reasoned with. So I beg you, put down your weapons, and I'll leave your territory immediately."
F hears Takagi give a hearty chuckle as if enjoying her vain attempt. "You know, if this was a good day and you hadn't killed three of my men, I'd probably say yes," she hears him say as she goes upstairs. "However, not only did you kill my men, but you have a particular old man in there with ya. My gut tells me you're planning on taking him with ya… and I can't let that happen."
Hearing the whirl of blasters about to fire, F ignites her crude smoke bombs fuses, throwing them at the raiders. With the large plum of thick white powder acting as their cover, F lifts the old man with the Force, and she jumps down, tossing him onto one of the speeders. F notices a raider was still on it before the old man shoves him off. The raider is briefly baffled he's being speeder jacked by the elderly before pulling out a blaster, but F dispatches him with her lightsaber, his random blaster fire drowning out her saber's hum. F joins the old man on the same speeder and drives out of town before the raider could notice. F stays at a high speed in case they are being followed when the old man points to the northeast. Taking it as directions F swerves right in hopes where he's guiding her is safe.
/-/-/-/-/
The more F and her new companion ride on, the more time seems to drag on. The end arrives when the former sees something against the settling dusk. Upon closer inspection, F finds it to be a town surrounded by a high wall, she looks up to see a white energy spire emitting a ray shield dome protecting the town. F sees her companion pull out a compact device that, with a few button presses, deactivates the ray shield and opens the wall gates. 'This along with the wall explains why he's safe,' she thinks while entering.
As F cruised through the main street, she saw on both rows the dome houses and buildings were adorned with planets and greenery. Water sprinklers kept them healthy enough for flowers to bloom, the water droplets on them sparkled against the street lamps. Despite the planet life, F senses no other life here, though the empty buildings make that obvious. "Are you this town's only inhabitant?' she asks.
"Well, not really. Stop here," he answers as she stops.
When she does, something moves in the structures. The something, or things, turn out to be dozens of droids suddenly crowding onto the street and rushing over to the old man. F's flinching stops when she sees they're just utility droids like gonk droids and a repaired protocol droid. She gets off while the old man greets the worried droids. 'That explains why the plants are maintained, but why is he alone? What happened to the people here?'
"Uh, excuse me," F hears and sees the old man waving at her, "I thought I was trapped back there, but by some miracle, you showed up. I can't thank you enough, miss… umm-"
"My name isn't important," F tells him, "but it was no trouble, sir. I knew what those raiders were capable of, and I believe they will only keep chasing me unless I find sanctuary."
"You don't say. Well, it seems you've found your sanctuary." The old man shrugs, walking to the hanger doors. "Come in. It'd be rude of me not to treat my rescuer to a warm meal."
F stomach growls at the mention. "Thank you," she says as she follows the old man. While walking, F sees most of the droids return to caring for the town and plants, with some even conversing with each other and playing music from a bar. F is led to a cul-de-sac at the end of the street, she looks up to what looks to be the town's large, circular-shaped ship hangar. F witnesses the old man enter a passcode, opening the hangar's doors while its indoor lights turn on, revealing what's inside. "This is…!" F gasps at the sight of land, and aerial vehicle components carefully picked apart with other junk lying about.
"I see you find this impressive," the old man says humbly while F follows. "It's my family's personal ship repair center or junkyard. Either term works. There's more in the large yard beyond the large door over there, but it's nothing fancy. However, it's got some real treasures buried beneath."
F sees the array of tools besides the machines and how expertly the parts are dismantled or applied. 'Excellent craftsmanship,' she thinks of the man leading her upstairs.
He opens the rusty door and turns on the array of tiny lights on the ceiling. F inspects the broad and spacious living area while the old man activates a fireplace by the wall. F peeks through the wide window overlooking the main floor, glances at the kitchen in the corner end, and sees how little furniture there is. Most curiously, F sees, are boxes stacked beside the door, mostly filled with blueprints of Corellian ships, which were high-grade for a planet in the Negs of the Core Worlds.
"Kato, I wasn't killed again!" the old man announces.
F notices a small hatch door open, and a purple astromech rolls out with joyous beeps and boops. The old man pats the droid, who sees F, and rolls towards her with curiosity. "Hey-No, that's close enough!" F protests, but realizes she raised her voice. "Sorry, but I prefer to have some space."
"I see," the old man says and nods respectfully. Hearing the droid's sad beeps, he pats its head in comfort. "Aww, it's okay, Kato, it's not you. She's a good person. She's the reason I'm not dead, so please grab an extra bowl for her. She'll be our guest for tonight."
As the droid did, F takes a seat and asks, "Kato?"
"It's what he wanted to be called. I found him off a Separatist ship. Poor thing was nearly shut down for good till I fixed him up," the old man shares.
"A Separatist droid?" F gasped. "You made sure to get rid of any old programs, right?"
"Only the one that took away his will to choose. Why?"
F decides to remain silent, but the old man seems to understand before taking out and lighting up a cigar. F was glad her mask ventilated air.
"Well, that chapter in the galaxy is over, along with viewing them as the enemy. They're stuck with the new government as the rest of us," the old man says, as K8-T0 places a tray with their meals on the table, the steam of the spicy grain soup with various vegetables and meats fills the air. F hesitates, which the old man notices. "Please, eat. It won't kill you," he offers.
"I prefer eating alone," F informs.
The man merely shrugs and walks off, taking K8-T0 with him to a seat by the kitchen "This better?" he asks, his back turned. "I won't look, promise."
"Thank you," F says, turning towards the window and taking off her mask. The soup was easier for her to eat, with its deliciousness catching her by surprise. "What did that raider want from you?" F eventually asks.
"Takagi," the old man muttered, cursing the name. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bit of an expert with tech, a subject they're total buffoons on. However, they're recently procured a massive stock of deactivated droids and need me to gain their new army."
"Against the Empire?"
"Takagi's crazy but not stupid," he says. "No, he'll be going after more villages and other raider groups fighting for power."
"There's more than one?"
"Oh, much more, some more merciful than him. You see, the people of Aradia's eastern wildlands, like my family, are proud. For generations, we lived off the motto of self-reliance, independence, and solitude. Which also extends to technology."
"So, you're saying you're the only shipyard out here?!" F asked in a surprised tone.
"Indeed, you won't find another one like me for dozens of miles." Just as F reprimands her assumption and how it nearly got her lost or even killed, the old man continues, "However, in these times of war or when resources are low, it has spawned many raiders fighting to survive."
"That explains the ghost towns. If the people in the cities are just recovering, I can't imagine what it's been like out here," F says. "What about the Empire? Has their presence changed anything?"
"Is that what they're called?" the man asked. "Well, so far, this Empire hasn't touched these lands. Either because it's a lost cause, or they're letting us tear each other apart." F senses trepidation in the man's words, and she could only imagine how long this fighting and suffering would go on. "I don't think there's anything even you could do about it," he says with a dejected tone.
F briefly recalls similar peacekeeping missions the Jedi undertook. While some were resolved in a few weeks, most took months and required seasoned knights with a deep understanding of the land and culture. In these new times, she has to put aside idealism for a more pragmatic approach. "No, not now at least," she sighs, "but I could at least get rid of these raiders for you in exchange for a favor."
"A favor? That's an interesting thing for a Jedi on the run to ask," the old man said.
The name has F ask cautiously, "And what does that mean to you?"
"Nothing," the old man raised his hands. "What would snitching on you do for me but attract more trouble?" Despite his assurance, F decides to refrain from giving exact details before putting her mask back on. "So what's this favor?" the man asks her.
"I need a ship. A fast one with guns and a hyperdrive," F says upfront, "I don't care if we have to build it, so long it gets me off this planet."
The man ponders on the offer, showing a surprising amount of hesitation. As far as she could sense, it likely has to do with the history behind those blueprints she found. Suddenly, the man gets up and walks past her, mumbling to her, "I'll sleep on it, focus on getting some rest."
A part of F wants to remain respectfully silent, but her persistence made her blurt out, "I'll build it myself if I must."
"Ah, so I guess you know how to properly reactivate a damaged ion jet engine without it blowing up? How to calibrate an ANs-5d full-spectrum transceiver in the sensor system without just hearing static?" the man asks.
While F couldn't help feeling irritated by each question, her mechanical training went far, but never the level of her teachers. Crossing her arms, she mutters, "not exactly."
The old man stops by the door. "Look," he says. "I'm not trying to be hard on you. You're desperate, alone, and probably even a little scared. But this is something I really need to think about, for my own reasons, so give me one night, please?"
F taps her heels before nodding yes, then the old man and his droid proceed to leave her be. F decides to ease her mind and lay back on the couch. She wonders about her chances of escaping without being noticed and what the raiders are currently planning. F then hears a beeping noise come from the table. She proceeds to press a green button, which activates a holo screen. "The HoloNet," she recognizes and decides to do a quick search. "Alderaan," she whispers while typing, immediately being shown tons of search results. She clicks on one only to be met with a red message.
[This article has been deemed misinformed and unreliable by the Imperial Communications Commission]
F supposes this is to be expected and clicks on an Imperial approved site. Though she knows it was biased toward the Empire, what she reads is no less troubling.
"Separatists in Acherin are on the retreat, but internal acts of rebellion continue to disrupt peace-making efforts."
"A deadly preemptive strike on an Imperial convoy along the Corellian Run hyper route is the latest attack done by unknown insurgents. Reports told of their ships being too well-equipped and numerous to be from a small insurgency, backing the possibility that dozens of planets are looking to break away. The likely candidates are planets once part of the Delegation of 2000, and though most have sworn their loyalty, hundreds still haven't, and their leaders are currently in their fifth month of imprisonment. What will happen next will determine whether the leader of these traitors, Bail Organa and his planet Alderaan, will continue to stir unrest in our grand new order."
A deep unsettling feeling hits F as she turns off the Holonet. "The Empire's iron fist is threatening to crush the last gasp of the Republic," she says, watching as more of the world she once knew withers away. "If Alderaan capitulates, then the remaining systems will surrender as well, and hope will truly be lost. I can't allow that to happen. I must do something to help prevent this."
F's brought out of her thoughts by K8-T0's beeping, followed by him bumping into her. "Ugh, I told you...nevermind," she groaned, today's fatigue catching up to her. F hears K8 beep again and she realizes he was just offering her a blanket for tonight, which she takes so as not to be rude. She sighs as exhaustion begins to take over, K8 then beeps to ask her where she plans on going. "It's a secret," F merely mutters before lying down. She tries her best to sleep on the couch until realizing it's simply impossible for her to do. F decides to sleep on the floor, hopeful the memories won't be too bad tonight.
/-/-/-/-/
A dreamless night passes for F, and when morning arrives, she tiredly walks to the window to find droids moving about below. The old man is nowhere to be seen. "Where'd he go?" F asks with a yawn, walking down the spiral staircase to one of the protocol droids. "Where's your owner? Is he alright?"
"He left quite a while ago, as to where, he did not inform us," the droid answered. The way it moves tells F that her bafflement is more than obvious. "Don't fret. He does this often."
"With the raiders out there it's a wonder he's still alive," F sighs, leaving the droids alone. She wonders if she should wait for him until hearing a loud echo from one of the main floor rooms. "What now?" she mumbles, running to a green door and entering what seems to be the old man's room. She activates the light to find junk cluttering the floor and K8-T0 being the source of the crash. F watched her step to see it was a box tower that fell over K8, "What were you doing?" she wonders while using the Force to lift the droid and box off the ground.
The droid beeps thankfully before bumping into a particular box, insisting her to look; F decides to take a quick peek. It was filled with miscellaneous things, except for a hologram projecting a photo of a family: a husband and wife with their son, daughter, and grandmother.
"Is this his family?" F asks K8, feeling like she is intruding a bit when K8 points to her satchel. F pulls out the doll from her duffel bag and gasps at noticing it's the exact one being held by the daughter. "You recognize it," she whispers to K8.
The droid whimpers sadly, and F pats him in solace as she carefully puts the hologram back where it belongs, unsure what to say to the old man. 'Does he know? He has to, right? Either way, handing him this won't be easy,' F ponders.
Hearing the large backyard doors open, F tucks away the doll in her bag and follows K8 to the main floor, where she sees a large vehicle with new parts backing up. It stops as F enters the giant junkyard, being greeted by the old man who climbs down from the driver's side. F saw his bandana and goggles were covered with dirt. He coughed a bit before telling F, "I will build your ship."
F felt a sense of relief and gave a slight bow in thanks, asking, "Where do we start?"
The old man guides her through the yard that's over a hundred and twenty yards long and seventy-five yards wide. After passing through mounds of junk, they come to a row of damaged Republic ships. "Alright, first things first, you're not getting out of here without a sturdy ship hull," the man said, gesturing for her to explore the dozen or so ships here. "Don't expect anything big and fancy. The largest I got here are shuttles."
Sadly, a quick look tells F that few here will meet her requirements. A Nu-class attack shuttle, as tempting as it may be, lacks its massive wings that would require specific materials to replicate. The V-wing starfighter also catches her eye as the Empire still uses them, so it could provide extra cover, but not only were the guns wholly broken, both the shield projector and reactant were dangerously wrecked. "Is this all you have?" F asks, going through the last few ships.
"As much as I could collect, if you want more, then we'll have to start digging," the man says.
The final ship F finds is an ARC-170 starfighter, which is the most promising. It retains its overall shape and guns, and the parts missing could be replaced relatively easily. However, F's heart sinks as she lifts up the hyperdrive shielding to find it utterly destroyed. "Any chance you found a rare class 1.5 hyperdrive?" F asks.
The old man sighs. "No, this type of starfighter was used sparsely in the battle. Many were vaporized when the Republic capital ship crashed, with the few left scuttled or buried… This one's ion acceleration chamber is also busted."
F slams down the flap, putting her hand over her eyes in frustration. "I can't spend too long building these ships! Without a hyperdrive, it will take me weeks just to reach the next planet. That is if I don't die of dehydration first," she sighs.
The old man gives a slight nod. "Look, let me inspect these again. Maybe I can find a workaround."
With little else to do, F jumps down and lets him do his work while she goes deeper into the junkyard. The quiet air reminds her to keep a level head. F decides to meditate on this and think back to her technical training, hoping that she was merely missing a crucial lesson. That is until a series of beeping interrupts her concentration. "Not now," she groans at the approaching K8-T0, but he doesn't leave. "Listen, if it's about before, I'm just waiting for the right time, okay?"
When the droid remains, F storms off in the yard, even more irritated. She pays no to a ship's nose in front of her, at first brushing it aside and-
F pauses upon recognizing the red and white Republic colors on the nose tip. Taking a step back, she tries to look past the large mound of scrap metal to see the ship underneath. After a hard look, F pinpoints the ship's pilot seat fitted for a starfighter. Despite its cracked glass dome, she feels she has seen its shape before. "There's something here," she quietly says, feeling a sense of nostalgia.
She closes her eyes, reaching out with the Force to lift the piles of junk off her target. The beeps of K8-T0 and following footsteps don't interrupt her from lifting the last of the debris into the air. What does is the old man's voice. "Incredible."
The junk drops elsewhere with a loud crash. It might as well have been a mile away, as F opens her eyes and gasps at the Clone War era fighter before her, with its worn-out white and red engines, damaged yet still sleek design, and slightly snubbed long nose. "Huh, I don't remember collecting this," the old man mumbles, staring at the clone Z-95 starfighter.
F, however, remembers the type of ship which she rode into battle dozens of times over. She recalls how it feels to go 1,150 kph, hearing the roar of its twin 2a fission engines upon take-off and the weight of the trigger before firing its Taim & Bak KX5 laser cannons. F took a long look at the condition of this ship and concluded at first glance that, while its engines are damaged, and one of its wings is clipped, it could fly.
"I need to fix her," F whispers.
The old man glances at the ship himself, saying, "It's not in bad shape, but this doesn't have a hyperdrive either and-"
"But we could retrofit one. I've seen my master do it before… Please," she pleads silently.
After another look, the old man turns to K8-T0. "Kato, gather the rest of the droids. I'll go grab my tools," he says and leaves F alone with the ship.
Once the old man was out of earshot, F carefully hops on the old starfighter and pops open the cockpit. Caring little for the seat's skeletal frame inside, F takes in the familiar controls and firmly moves the flight stick. "Feels exactly like my old one," F whispers, feeling a smile of satisfaction and familiarity while testing with the old buttons and switches.
With every push and flip, F remembers her first flight with her old ship. By the memory, she swears this one will fly as well.
/-/-/-/-/-/
Daylight soon turns to night as sparks fly from the damaged starfighter. Under the starfighter, F welds on newer and stronger plating, and checks on the mechanisms of its proton torpedo launcher. Meanwhile, the droids help the old man to refurbish the fission engines, one of them was practically replaced given how many parts he used.
Done with welding on another plate, F stops to find K8-T0 with a cup of water on his flat head. "Thanks," she smiles and checks if the old man's looking first before finishing her drink in one go.
F quickly puts on her mask after hearing the old man finish up. "Its nose will be a bit short if that's okay with you," he jokes as the pair steps back to check their progress.
"Might take a few more days, but she will fly," F comments.
Nodding in agreement, the old man then reviews their progress so far. "I also made sure the new wing is sturdy. The engines will need a bit more polish too, but they'll stay together." F's eagerness rises with every word, but a sturdy hand from the old man keeps her from exerting herself. "I think we earned ourselves some rest."
Soon enough, the two return to the main hangar to do so. F sits back against some boxes while eating her soup, a courtesy from K8-T0. The old man meanwhile does a maintenance check on some of his droids after helping all day. Even though the old man faces elsewhere, F clearly sees his jaded expression and a distant look in his eyes, the same look as from last night. It is as if he wants to detach himself while building the ship and not think about it or anything at all.
Remembering why, F quietly pulls out the worn-out doll from her duffel bag. She takes a deep breath before saying, "Old man."
"Jiro," he shares.
"Jiro… do you have a family?" she asks, but Jiro continues to work. "Apologies, but this morning I saw your astromech trapped under some boxes in your room. He was insistent on me looking at one of them… which had a recent hologram of a family, but you weren't in it."
The old man pauses. "Yes…" he says, "that was my wife with our son's family."
F puts on her mask. Rising to her feet, she carefully asks, "Why weren't you in it? Did it have to do with the Corellian blueprints upstairs? Who are you, really?"
Jiro puts down his tools, and his droids fall silent for him to recount his past. "For most of my life, I was the top ship designer for the Corellian Engineering Corporation," he reveals. "I remember the day my mother built a real ship, the only one in a hundred miles. How it felt being with her when we took off and saw the stars above be so close that I could touch them. I've wanted to get off this planet since then… even after I was expecting a son."
"You left them," F gently said.
Jiro tightens his lips with a pained look, gazing down at the floor, "I couldn't forget the look my wife gave me when I did," he says. He then turns to the damaged spacecraft around them. "For the next forty years, I took part in designing some of the most beautiful ships in the galaxy. I even made droids to help me." K8-T0 and a few small droids follow Jiro, who gives a weary smile. "I sent my family almost everything I earned, I was just happy making ships for the galaxy… it became excessive."
"You didn't see them at least?" F asks.
"I tried… but just like the money, they refused me most of the time," Jiro says, his inner torment returning. "They saw what this was doing to me, to my ego. It became an obsession that blinded me… I think I told my son more about my achievements than ask him about his."
"So your love for your role, this new you really, blinded you," F says with a sense of understanding.
"I didn't want to be another salvager." Jiro shakes his head in frustration. "I saw my destiny right in front of me, and all I thought was how much of a fool I will be to not take it. Since then, I thought I had my life squared away…until I was given plans to help build warships."
F knowingly sighs. "The war."
Jiro grabs a small ship part; right beside it is his son's hand blaster. "I tried my best, but I couldn't build a ship whose only purpose was to kill others. They're meant for exploration…freedom, you understand, right?"
F nods. "As a Jedi, we were taught to use our power only for defense. My master once said the Force is a gift to understand ourselves and the galaxy, not to become great warriors." She sees Jiro smile as if wishing the same for himself. "Did they force you to make them?"
"That they did, often with a gun to my back!" Hissing, Jiro throws the part to the ground, shattering it. "It was like that for two years, and when I wasn't working I watched as ships I built rain fire to several worlds. Then a Separatist ship attacked the factory I was trapped in, so I made my escape. When I didn't look back, I realized that I didn't care about throwing away forty years of hard work, my life's dream. All I wanted from then on was to make up for everything I did wrong to my family."
F's gut tightens from a new pain, as her mind senses Jiro's feelings from the day he finally made it back to Aradia: the confusion and fear at finding an empty town, the joy in discovering where his family has been relocated, and the devastation upon finding their destroyed settlement. "They were already dead," F says sorrowfully, her words freezing her in place more than the destroyed part by her feet.
Jiro himself nearly falls on his knees. He barely clings to a machine but can't stop his tears streaming down his face. "I found out this town, where my family was safe, was bombed by the very ships I built during the Separatist invasion," Jiro reveals, his voice deeply shaken. "With no republic relief, the people of the wildlands were forced to endure the food shortages alone, including my family. But they had nowhere else to go, forced to live in squalor settlements, and then those butchers came!"
The rising resentment which F feels vanishes from Jiro, now left muttering, "My wife… son… and his beautiful family, are all dead because of my ships. It's my fault… I failed them."
K8-T0 and a few droids try comforting Jiro, but F stands still, unsure what to say. She looks down at the doll, her finger brushing against its woolen hair and smiling face. Then, F kneels next to Jiro. "They're still here," she says before handing Jiro the doll. Watching him hold the doll as if it is the most fragile object on the planet, F goes on, "Life doesn't truly end after death; it merely moves on to the next world. We're all still connected, even if we don't see it…they feel how much pain you're in. They feel your regret, your sorrow, and want for forgiveness."
F waits until Jiro takes a deep breath and slowly picks himself up. His eyes now dry, he looks down at the doll when K8-T0 bumps his leg, sewing materials on top of his head. F nods in agreement to the droid's beeps and whirls. "He's right," she tells Jiro. "It's never too late to fix what's been broken."
For a moment, F watches Jiro. His eyes look out to the night sky past the hanger doors, and she swears there is something twinkling in them. "I've been living here since their passing," Jiro says, "forbidding myself from ever building another ship while waiting…to join them."
"If building my ship pains you, I can take over," F offers.
Jiro raises his hand. "No, because you're right," he says with increasing determination. "I can't waste my last days like this anymore, in endless grief. If building one more ship means giving someone, a Jedi, the freedom they need, then I'll do it. Not for myself, but for you and my family."
Smiling under her mask, F graces her host with a bow. "I'm honored to receive such a ship," she says. Sharing a look of understanding with Jiro, F turns to leave him be for tonight.
"How about you, my masked friend?" Jiro asks, and F stops by the stairs. "Did becoming a Jedi mean you had to leave others behind? Or the person you once were?"
F turns from Jiro to look out to the infinite stars as well. She closes her eyes from their allure, her mind wandering through the darkness to her first memory: Her tiny hand reaches out to a glowing golden butterfly fluttering by a blossoming sakura tree. After this short-lived blissfulness and until the day her master found her alone, there was only fire, war, and darkness.
"No. I had nothing," F says before going upstairs, "and my old self… is only a stranger to me now."
/-/-/-/-/-/
Ever since her arrival to Aradia, F has seen its sunrise enough times to lose count. However, when F sees the dawn for the seventh time in this town, she hopes it would be for the last time. Following it is another long day of constructing her starfighter. As expected, it is a complicated task, even with the extra help. At the same time, F felt calm. Raiders activity has been too quiet for her liking, but something about building this ship with Jiro and exploring the town with the droids gives her a sense of security.
"Alright now!" Jiro shouts from on the ground.
Snapping back to reality, F carefully inserts the pilot seat to the cockpit. Once done, she hops inside to test the engines and smiles at the ship's motors coming to life again. Purple flames roared from F's new ship while gently raising the stick, smiling even more when it hovers above the ground. The familiar feel and the fact it all sticks together gave F a genuine sense of freedom, that she could go anywhere the Empire couldn't find her.
Through the kicked-up dust and booming engines, Jiro shouts joyously, "haha! It's working!" Beside him, K8 beeps happily, too.
F sees all systems and weapons were armed and ready, before landing the ship back down.
Jumping out, she blows away the dust kicked as Jiro claps to a job well done. F chuckles at the gesture, pointing out, "It's almost done. Also, you got dust on- everywhere, actually."
"It comes with the job," Jiro shrugs.
F's chuckle dies down from K8-T0's beeps, informing the pair of the hyperdrive dilemma. Seeing Jiro himself frown, F says, "Trouble again? I know a Z-95 could take any reasonable hyperdrive."
"That's right, but..." Jiro mumbles, his voice and feet trailing elsewhere.
F follows Jiro and K8 back to the hangar to a large worktable in the center of the main floor. Covered in a large black tarp, was Jiro's project, a custom-built hyperdrive engine. F never considered building one from the ground up, let alone letting it be done by one person. However, Jiro surprised her there. It was their luck, too, that suitable parts were already collected, but it seems that luck was running out.
"Everything done so far has been nothing short of my best work," Jiro explains. "The relativistic shield is safely secured, the Thorsen field driver won't be a hiccup on ya, and even the motivator is working."
"So, what's the problem?" F asks.
Jiro lifts off the tarp to reveal the problem: a missing inertial damper. "I used up all my parts to build the rest of the engine. Without the damper, your chances of being crushed by the enormous acceleration of a space jump become two to one."
"Of course, it is," F murmurs. "There's always something."
Jiro, however, pulls out a hologram of a wrecked Venator-class Republic cruiser. F holds back a shiver at the terrible memory to see Jiro pointing at a red dot deep inside the ship. "This is our one shot for the damper," he says.
F turns to the Z-95. "I can get there faster with that."
"But it's far too large for it, and dampers are known for their delicate nature. We'll take my speeder truck. It's a bit slow, but we'll get there."
"But the raiders-"
"Are still a threat, yes but Takagi's done nothing yet. There's been no word from him since our run-in days ago. Besides, I planned it out so that we're in and out within a few minutes, " Jiro assures. "And who knows? Perhaps you scared him off."
F wants to believe Jiro, but her instincts tell her differently. "I'll keep us safe in case Takagi does try something," F promises.
"I know you will," Jiro smiles and turns to the truck parked by the shipyard's outdoor gate. "Come on, Kato!"
F watched as they hopped on the truck, ready to take off. She grabs her lightsaber and joins them, prepared for any fight coming their way, for Jiro's sake and her freedom.
/-/-/-/-/-/
Arriving at the crash site unsettles F more than first believed. Only the front half of the massive cruiser lays at the crash site, its other half long gone. Around its corpse are the remains of an old battlefield encompassing as far as what appears to be five hundred yards long and four hundred yards wide. The only boundaries, F sees while driving through, are two rows of hastily made trenches, the frontline trench at the five hundred yard mark and the rear channel at the two hundred mark. In between them is a scattered graveyard of droid parts, clone armor, decimated tanks, and heavy cruiser debris.
"We're here," Jiro says, parking the truck a few yards from the cruiser. "Was quite the battle here, I heard. Their last stand in the name of the Republic."
A chill runs down F's neck from both Jiro's words and a disturbance she feels in the Force. She scans the battlefield as the feeling fades away, leaving an uneasy F to follow Jiro and K8 to the cruiser. Her uneasiness only grows after entering through a hole in the cruiser's hull. Inside, F recognizes the inside of a flight deck and the hangar doors she and the other pass by. The only light comes from Jiro and K8's flashlights, and the beams peeking from above, with foliage seeping through the rustic wall. The sight alone is enough to scare off anyone.
Beside F, K8 nervously beeps from the worn-out cruiser moaning loudly like a dying beast. Albeit startled herself, F gives the droid an assured pat on the head. Then, she turns to the hologram device Jiro pulls out. "Looks like it's in there. Hangar thirteen," F says, pointing to said hangar on their right.
"Good eye, Jedi. Course, it also had to be all the way at the end. My old bones aren't used to this," Jiro sighs. "I think once we're all settled, maybe becoming a farmer will do me some good, be a nice change of pace at least."
F gives a quiet agreeing nod, smiling behind her mask.
Nodding, F follows Jiro and K8 into the hangar bay. Their search does take a while, mostly due to the lack of light and Jiro struggling to recall the last location of the hyperdrive docking ring. The one the trio finds is lying against the hangar's far wall, damaged. While Jiro and K8 inspect its large engines, F feels the same unease lingering in the air. Only K8's cheer turns her eyes to the hyperdrive ring and the damper encompassing almost half of the engine. "We're at the home stretch," Jiro says with a smile and turns to F. "Thank you, Jedi. It's been an honor and even a bit fun."
F nods, returning the sentiment. With Jiro stepping back, she uses the Force to remove the damper from its place, doing so with precision and delicacy. F follows her two guides back outside and carefully levitates the piece into the truck. So far, everything is alrigh-
Suddenly, F's senses blare at her of another presence. Her eyes quickly dart to her left, spotting, roughly forty yards away, a light glint from the scope of a blaster rifle among the spanning wreckage. "Scout!"
A millisecond later, F narrowly dodges a plasma bolt. The scout, she sees, is getting on their hidden speeder. She can't let them get away!
"Jedi, use this!" Jiro shouts, and F catches sight of a grenade launching out of K8.
F uses the Force to propel the EMP to the scout's speeder, disabling the speeder in the middle of taking off. Its abrupt stop flings the raider scout to the ground and snaps his neck. F picks up his commlink device and hears orders for the main force to engage.
Jiro drives up to F and spots the commlink, "we need to leave," he says.
F looks out to the ridge, feeling that chill again, "no, we can't."
"Why?"
"Because they're already here, at the ridge we've come from, I can sense them." She sees Jiro's worried gaze and asks, "Jiro, you know how many soldiers Takagi has?"
"Twenty-six left."
F nods, "Yeah, it feels like that much." Knowing they only had a minute to prepare, she asks, "do you have any more of those grenades?"
K8 comes out with a bag that Jiro opens, "not enough for an army. I got two more EMPs, three thermal detonators, and one DC-17 blaster pistol."
"Better than nothing," F says and clips the grenades to her waist but leaves the pistol behind for Jiro.
When Jiro took the blaster, F sensed his dread, the same fear that paralyzed him through their last encounter with the raiders. "I'll protect us, I promise," she swears to ease his anxiety.
"I know, but it's not that, Jedi. Are you sure about fighting?"
F flinches at his question with her hand quivering, which she had to grab to stop. "It's just another battle," she whispers to herself than to Jiro; suddenly, she senses the raiders closing in, "cruiser, now!"
Jiro does what she says and drives to the cruiser section they've entered with the hyperdrive part.
F crosses the graveyard of ships and tanks, ignoring them to reach out with the Force and regain her energy, tuning in with the life regrowing from war. Reaching the frontlines trenches, F stands on top of a republic starfighter, ready to fight. The wind brushes against the tall grass when the roar of engines disrupts the serene atmosphere.
F stands firm while the raiders cross the ridge, stopping two hundred yards where she stood. F counts four 74-Z speeders at the front with two raiders on each one, behind them were three AT-RT walkers surrounded by fourteen infantrymen carrying an assortment of guns, and finally a Separatist AAT-1 tank in the rear. 'You've faced worse,' she tells herself.
Takagi pops out of the top of the tank, contacting F's comlink with his. "Jedi?" he says mockingly, but F keeps her cool. "I've reconsidered your previous offer, and I'm feeling merciful today. Give Jiro to us, and you can fly away to your heart's content."
'They've been watching us,' F deduces from his knowledge of the ship. Nonetheless, her answer was the same, activating her lightsaber before initiating her battle stance. 'Remember Form I, it'll carry you in this battle.'
"Tsk, you think your little heroics will change anything on this planet? To wherever you're going? You've already lost, Jedi."
"Not yet," F declares, smashing the comlink with her heel.
The tank fires its main cannon; F dives into a nearby crater while plasma bolts explode around her. The bombardment slows; F guesses they lost track of her, allowing her to see their speeders charging forward. The barrage keeps F from moving, fearing being spotted, 'if those speeders reach me, I'm dead,' she realizes. F glances at a large ship plate and formulates a plan of attack, lifting the metal through the Force and aiming at the speeders. She propels the projectile at fast speeds with a great throw, destroying one of the speeders and catching the raiders by surprise.
"Twenty-four left," F whispers, lifting up a ship wing and aiming her next shot. Sweat flies from her brow when she throws, hitting another speeder, 'Twenty-two.' Suddenly, tank fire lands a bit too close for F's liking, and she retreats to the rear trench. 'I gotta do something about that tank. I'll have to lure it in somehow. Otherwise, I'm a sitting duck out here,' F strategizes, hearing the speeders reach the frontlines. F squats behind some sandbags, watching one speeder to her right circle around in the distance while the other scours the center field slowly.
'They can barely go anywhere without the risk of hitting debris,' F analyzes, coming up with a way to ambush them. Tank fire continues to rain while F stays low, flanking around the center speeder until she's right behind them. F slices through both raiders at fast speeds, 'twenty.' The last speeder notices and begins charging at her while firing their blasters, F gets on her's, readying her lightsaber for this joust. Deflecting each shot coming at her, both speeders appear they'll collide until F shifts left and slices through both raiders.
"Eighteen," F sighs, noticing blast holes on her cloak when enemy cannon fire resumes. Driving behind a nearby droid gunship, F hides the speeder before returning to her frontline position. Cannon fire stops as their walkers and infantry begin charging. F tries lifting another ship's debris, but it's shot away by the tank. This, with infantry fire now raining down, forces F to fall back and duck behind a republic tank. However, she devises a plan and takes out two EMPs.
The raiders cross over the frontline trench at which F flings over EMPs at two walkers from her position, stunning the machines. F dashes around in a flanking maneuver, circling their left flank while they fire at the republic tank. Once behind them, F throws a detonator to the still active walker, decimating it and three infantry. 'Seventeen,' F counts, using the confusion and smoke to charge the two stalled walkers. She cuts through four infantry before destroying the walkers with a detonator, 'eleven.'
Smoke and dust from the battle cover the field, covering F's mask and face with ash, straining her sight. She switches to the Force and feels a weapon ignite, dodging a sudden burst of flame behind her to discover a flamethrower among their ranks. F blocks the next incoming wave of fire with the Force, but its heat was so overwhelming that her hand was burnt red and the corner of her cloak caught on fire. However, she powers through and crushes the weapon by clenching her fist, dashing forward, and cutting down the raider.
'Ten,' F grunts, wrapping her burnt hand with the last of her cloak. Suddenly, out of the smoke, two heavy infantry armed with rotary blaster cannons appear. Their insane rate of fire forces F to retreat to the rear trench, but their onslaught continues to pin her down. F senses them trying to do a pincer movement but finds a pipe embedded in the trench to her left. F grabs it with the Force and hurls it to the left gunner, impaling them in the chest. The last raider reaches her right flank, but F somersaults over them and swiftly dispatches them.
"Five," F gasps, cuts from plasma on her arms with her vision beginning to blur from fatigue. However, a nearby tank blast snaps F out of it, and she runs to the speeder, dodging heavy fire from the now moving tank. With her lightsaber in hand, F engages the tank with her speeder on the open field in one final charge. F's heart pumps rapidly while deflecting small arms fire and narrowly dodging cannon fire. F was in range when her senses screamed, saw the cannon pointed at her, realizing she couldn't avoid it. Her speeder explodes when she jumps off, performing a somersault over the tank and now in an optimal position. F grabs her last detonator and throws it down the open top hatch.
F lands behind, ducking from the explosion, the tank finally eliminated.
"Zero," F gasps out before falling to her knees, her ears still ringing from the explosion. The intensity and ferocity of the battle have shaken her mind, reigniting flashes to the war. F's hands quiver upon reflecting on her actions, her mind closes itself off to her surroundings. This blocks F from sensing a presence until it is too late. She turns to see Takagi stumble away, seemingly having jumped out of the tank in time.
Before she could ignite her lightsaber, Takagi pulls out a detonator and tosses it beside F while wearing his slimy grin. F stumbles back and uses the Force to shield herself before it explodes, throwing her back and temporarily making her deaf. F couldn't open her left eye but could see her left arm covered in scorch marks, her sleeve gone entirely. Her legs shook when she stood up and found Takagi gone, her good eye immediately darting to the cruiser.
"J-Jiro..." she grunts, gasping for air as she forces herself to trudge quickly, even when it felt like her muscles were on fire.
Her vision was beyond blurry, her limbs were exhausted beyond belief, and she could barely hold her lightsaber. F knew she couldn't fight like this, but she promised Jiro and K8 that she'd protect them.
She can't fail someone again.
After five hundred grueling yards, F finds the empty truck and approaches the nearby cruiser entrance but stops outside. Her heart sinks upon discovering K8's and Jiro's bodies on the ground before her. "N-no," she mutters, staring at the blast hole in K8's body and a wound in Jiro's chest.
She then gasps to see Jiro cough, his arm moving ever slightly. She steps towards him when he coughs out, "look out!"
Before she could react, F was hit in the head by Takagi's electrostaff; her weary eye seeing his seething anger as she collapsed. "He couldn't stop resisting because of his stupid blaster. Would've killed me if I didn't do it," Takagi shouts, raising his staff to finish off F, "it's all your fault, Jedi!"
F ears stung from the electricity, her senses now gone, so too her ability to move. However, all she heard at that moment was Takagi's last words repeating over and over: "It's all your fault, Jedi!"
'No... It's not…' she agonizes.
The last thing she felt was clenching her head, a wave of visceral emotions crashing over her. Darkness, that's all F saw a second later, as if she's gone blind despite her eyes still being there. F was only aware of her consciousness and hearing for several moments while experiencing a freezing cold unlike any other. F couldn't tell if she was dead...or experiencing a nightmare.
"Padawan!" a voice pleads.
F's senses instantly return, her one good eye wide open. Her mind rattles at what happened, and recalls not being struck again, 'I blacked out?' she wonders.
Then, the first thing she saw was the electrostaff crushed which ignites a recent memory. 'No, I didn't blackout, I was awake the whole time...I fell into that abyss without even realizing it,' F grasps.
F shifts her head to Takagi's corpse, staring at his broken neck while remembering the feeling of the dark side consuming her. She had frozen Takagi, broke his weapon, and snapped his neck without even lifting a finger. "Such power," F's whispers with a quiver of fear.
F reels back her hand, looking at herself in horror of what she did while in that cold, dark state. She clenches her fist, mortified of her dark side and her failure to stop it, 'why...why again?!'
A weak cough snaps F out of her despair, turning to Jiro, mumbling something. She reaches to him when he weakly opens his eyes, only able to let out small gasps of air.
"Jiro, I'm sorry," F whispers, her throat burning from holding back any emotion that'll set her off again, "I failed you...I wasn't strong enough to protect you."
"F-fix…" Jiro mutters, stopping F, who attentively listens. "Fix...Kato," he asks, his final request.
F instantly nods, "I will. He'll be okay." Then, Jiro raises his arm, pointing to the sky above. F looks up as he silently reminds her of his vow to help her achieve freedom. Looking at his weary smile, she tells him, "I'll fly away from this world, to my freedom, I swear it. Jiro...thank you for everything."
F hears his last breath before feeling his life fade away, rejoining his family who've waited for him. Once he passed on, tears streamed down F's mask, letting her emotions pour out at once.
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
A bandaged up F stands in front of a gravestone at a quiet garden formed in the center of Jiro's town, surrounded by his many droids. She sets down a white flower by Jiro's grave that says: "It's never too late. " F solemnly bows to the grave, softly whispering, "rest now, my friend. Farewell."
She takes one last look before K8 rolls up behind her. F is thankful she could at least save one life as she comforted the mourning droid. F walks back to the hangar with no more words to say, reaching her starfighter in the shipyard, ready for take-off with a one-of-a-kind hyperdrive.
When she got on, the other droids approached her to bid her a proper farewell. "Jedi," the protocol droid says, "we're thankful of you for bringing peace to this land and for helping in honoring Jiro, but what should we do now?"
As F got in her seat, she answered, "That's entirely up to all of you. Use the freedom you have now to do what you think is best."
After a brief silence, K8 beeps to the others, who soon all agree, the protocol droid says, "Then it's settled, we'll continue rebuilding this town and make it greener than ever. Perhaps even others looking for a new home will find their way here."
"I know they will," F smiles before giving one last wave to the droids as she activates her engines. She looks on at K8 while her ship rises in the air. F shouts, "may the force be you, Kato, to all of you," before shooting off into the golden sky.
F felt no fear as she entered orbit, firmly holding the flying stick until it stopped. There were no words for her to say as she realized she had finally made it.
Placing her hand against her window, F stares onto planet Aradia's golden lands below with a melancholy gaze. Knowing she can't stay here for long, F turns to the vastness of space before activating her jump hyperdrive to Alderaan, to freedom. She holds her breath when her view turns blue, and in a flash, she successfully enters hyperspace, now free to go anywhere in this vast galaxy.
Again huge thanks to Kamen Rider Raika for being the Beta of this chapter, they've been a fantastic help in refining this chapter. Go check their work on for more!
A/N: And that was the last chapter of the Aradia Arc, it's been very interesting developing this unknown world of the galaxy, and writing about F in my first arc. I hope what's been hinted at with her was interesting for you all. She's awesome to write and writing characters for her to interact with is a fun way to explore these worlds.