Summary: "The padawan slowly extends a hand down to him." Cal Kestis's escape pod lands on Kaller instead of Bracca. Another padawan finds him, and he's not alone in his grief. One-shot. Post ROTS/TBB, Pre JFO.
A Path Forward
The escape pod pitches and shakes as the planet's atmosphere pulls it in.
Cal Kestis holds the lightsaber tight to his chest, tries to ignore the body of his master flying around as limp as a ragdoll. He doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want to let go of the lightsaber. His eyes are red, his cheeks hot with tears that haven't stopped since it happened; since the troop commander answered the impending hologram, since he and the other clones opened fire on both him on his master, since his master collapsed beside him in the escape pod and shoved the lightsaber into his hands with a few final words of advice.
"Remember...trust only...in the Force."
He remembers how the ship explodes, how they- he drifts far longer than he thinks the trip down to Bracca should take. He doesn't know where he is going to land, doesn't care where he's going to land.
His master is dead.
The Jedi Order has probably been destroyed.
He has no one.
Cal has nothing- nothing but the Force to guide him.
The pod picks up speed, reminds him of how a bullet tears through the air towards his target.
He sobs harder.
Because the clones- his friends- hadn't even hesitated.
This wasn't supposed to happen- they were going to go to Mygeeto, to aid Master Mundi and his forces in their battle.
Master Mundi was probably dead too.
He feels sick, and it's not because the escape pod is spinning.
He actually does get sick when his master's body is thrown on top of his in the landing.
He wishes it's a horrible nightmare, but his master's lifeless eyes are too real to be a figment of his imagination.
Cal doesn't leave the escape pod, not on his own.
It opens from the outside, and he's blinded by the sudden stream of light that pours into the small space. He sees the silhouette of someone standing in the opening. He tries to speak, but no words come. He blinks as his eyes begin to adjust.
And it's almost like looking into a mirror.
The person who finds him is young, about his age. He wears the robes of a padawan, has the braid too. His light brown hair is dishevelled, and his eyes are filled with a sorrow that reflects how Cal feels and probably looks.
The padawan slowly extends a hand down to him.
Cal takes it, because he has to, because he has no one, because the other boy is a survivor too.
He brings the lightsaber of Jaro Tapal with him.
They sit together on a log in the forest- it's cold here, but he's already too numb to care. His new companion doesn't press him, and he knows the boy watched his master die too.
"We can't stay here." The boy tells him. "They're looking for me, still- it's not safe here."
"I…" He doesn't want to leave his master's body to rot in the escape pod. "I want to bury him."
"Can I help?" There's a vulnerable hopeful look in his eyes. "I...I didn't get to bury my master. I didn't even see her fall, but I...heard her screams. She told me to run, and I did."
Cal silently nods, because his companion deserves to have the opportunity to mourn someone.
They don't talk as they do it.
"What's your name?" The boy asks him as they walk through the snowy forest.
"Cal. Cal Kestis." He says, tries to ignore how monotone his voice is.
"I'm Caleb." The padawan says. "Caleb Dume."
Cal recognizes the name.
"Your master- she was on the Council."
Caleb nods, but looks away. His voice is soft. "Not anymore."
"I'm sorry." Cal blurts out. "That she died, that you couldn't bury her."
"Me too."
"Cal? Do...Do you think there's anyone else out there?"
He can't answer that question.
"This...war is not over, my padawan."
