Notes: One thing I would like to get out of the way first. I didn't hate the Sequel Trilogy. Far from it - I had fun watching all three films, and that's enough for me. But... the part of me interested in writing and storytelling definitely didn't think the writing or storytelling was up to standards. My standards, at least, which, of course, are irrelevant to anybody but me. Suffice to say the ST (and the post-Endor period in general) is not how I would have done things. So, this is the first complete, if very short, story of a self-constructed canon pulling pieces from both Legends and Canon. It's... well, it's how I would have done things. Hope you enjoy.
As the cold breeze whipped her hair around and stung her face for the fourth time, Tamara regretted her decision not to bring a hat or coat.
She supposed it wasn't so bad. She certainly preferred it to the heat in the summer.
Still, she mostly kept to the interior of the Academy, tracing the cool stone with her right hand.
Her infrequent rounds through the Academy grounds had become a source of comfort when she needed to clear her head. Her father was always talking about how Jedi should 'meditate' and 'breathe' and a bunch of other boring stuff, so she had decided that she was just following his instructions, going on these walks.
That would be her argument, anyway. At best, it was likely to elicit a bemused smirk, an expression that she was quite used to seeing from her father.
She really couldn't help sneaking out of bed.
It just got so… quiet at night.
Even though there weren't a ton of students at the Academy, there was still a lot of commotion on any given day. Her father usually leading one training session or another, her mother and the other 'graduates' lending a hand or tutoring, the maintenance droids rolling through the halls - not to mention the general noise of everybody talking and moving around…
But, at night?
Nothing but the wind, and the sounds of insects and other creatures.
It was nice.
She stopped in front of the entrance of the small library. Another student, Vera, was sitting at a desk, poring over several datapads spread out over the table. The older girl looked up for a moment, squinting her eyes in her direction.
After a few moments, she shook her head and went back to her studies.
These walks were also a chance to practice.
Her mom had been teaching her a special skill in the Force, one that few other students showed any aptitude for. Even her father was very rusty at it.
During her mom's days as a spy in the war, she'd perfected the technique. It was essentially hiding in plain sight; her father had once compared it to a 'mass, low-intensity mind trick,' but she wasn't sure what that meant.
The way her mom explained it was that you were making yourself look like a natural part of whatever environment you were in. It worked best in crowded areas, but you could theoretically blend in anywhere, even places a person would otherwise stick out - especially a person with her and her mother's fiery red hair.
That's what she was doing here. Just… melting into the walls.
If you were particularly skilled in it, like she and her mother were, it could even mask your presence in the Force.
She'd never been capable of the big, flashy stuff like her cousin, so she was happy she had her own power to hone.
As she rounded a corner, she caught sight of Ben sitting on the edge of a long outdoor terrace.
Speak of the devil.
She made her way over to him, hugging the wall until she got to the terrace's edge. Sitting down cross-legged a few feet away, she looked out over the valley, copying him and trying to make out what he was staring at.
She couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.
"Hi, Ben," she finally said.
Her cousin let out a cry of surprise and nearly jumped out of his skin.
He recovered quickly and gave her a withering stare. "You know, everyone hates it when you do that."
She grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."
Ben just grunted in response, and went back to staring out at nothing.
A few minutes passed in silence before Tamara gingerly asked, "Are you okay?"
Her cousin shot her a quizzical look. "I'm fine."
"Really? 'Cuz yesterday at the training field y-"
"I said I'm fine!" he growled.
Tamara recoiled involuntarily, bringing her knees up to her chest. "Okay," she whispered, looking off at the stars.
Ben sighed. He sounded frustrated, but whether with her or himself, she couldn't say. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him stand up and drag his hands down the sides of his face. "Look," he began, and Tamara turned her head to face him. "You're just a kid - you wouldn't get it."
"Well, I might, but you'd have to tell me first."
He simply stared at her, an indecipherable look on his face. He sighed again, running a hand through his jet black hair. "Just forget it. I'm going to bed, and you should too."
She opened her mouth to protest, but was cut off.
"Forget it," he repeated, clearly summoning every ounce of authority he could muster into his voice. "Good night, Tami."
With that, he turned and walked off towards the dormitories. Tamara kept her eyes on him for a moment before turning back to the field of stars, resting her chin on her forearms, still folded over her tucked-up knees.
Ben's outbursts and frequent surly moods had been becoming more frequent, and more intense.
Her mom said he was just 'being a teenager.' Whatever that meant.
Her father didn't like to talk about it at all; which was unfair, because he always wanted her to talk about things.
But she knew she couldn't be the only one who felt that dark cloud around him. Like something… ancient and powerful was reaching out across the stars, trying to devour him whole.
It frightened her. Not like spiders or mynocks did, but a deep, consuming fear.
She wanted to help him somehow, but what could she do? She'd bristled at Ben calling her a kid, but he was right.
Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to center herself, she drifted off to sleep without meaning to.
She dreamt of light and dark, and of Ben and her parents. She saw the stars go out, and the void they left behind.
She heard far off, cackling laughter, and caught glimpses of a prison, deep under a planet of cities, that held a woman with black eyes and too many teeth.
Just dreams.
She hoped.
End notes: Regarding Tamara's name: I looked around on name sites and Google Translate, and eventually found that the name Padma - which Padme is likely a derivative of - means 'lotus flower' in Sanskrit. 'Lotus flower' in Tamil is tamarai. So, my reasoning is that Luke named her after Padme, choosing a word for the same namesake flower in another old language or dialect.