CHAPTER ONE:
THE PULL
The nights she dreamt were the worst.
They were filled with blaster fire and screams she didn't recognize. And sometimes, however briefly, a pair of green eyes and the sound of metal clanging.
A series of sounds and senses so overwhelming there were nights she preferred to not dream at all.
Zoya sighed as she pulled herself up from the flimsy cot, stretching out her arms and neck from the cramped space she'd set herself up in.
Her neck cracked, and she let out a groan.
A familiar pattern of beeps rose up from a pile on the desk above her pillow, and she turned to face the droid who'd been her companion for the last five years.
"I'm okay, BeeDee," She assured the red and white explorer droid, who had raised his head in concern, "Just need to stretch and loosen up is all."
You say that every day, the droid beeped, resting its head back on the workbench.
Zoya chuckled and lifted her arms above her head, hands clasped.
The girl sighed and brushed her hair over her shoulder, catching sight of a durasteel cylinder not too far from the droid.
It was an uninspiring thing, round and simple with a bronze switch embedded in the metal. Her stomach twisted and she turned away, eyes dropping to the strips of cloth wrapped around her wrists. She picked at the callouses on her palms, mind lingering on the pair of eyes which had been appearing in her dreams of late.
They felt almost familiar to her, although she couldn't quite place them.
And always they were accompanied by the sounds of metal and the clanking of tools.
She crossed her legs and closed her eyes, letting her shoulders relax and the tension fade.
Zoya couldn't hear the force anymore, but the practice of meditation was so ingrained in her it was difficult to leave behind.
Today though, the planet was loud.
The oggdos croaked and bog rats scurried, bugs buzzing back and forth while boglings chased them through the abode.
Zoya only lasted a minute before giving up on it completely and grabbing her staff at the end of the bed.
She pulled at the strands of hair at the top of her ears, capturing a familiar braid as she tied it back into two separate buns. One near the crown of her head and one directly underneath it. The rest of her hair fell down her back and around her shoulders and she moved her grip down on the staff until it reached the leather wrap around the middle.
BD-1 chirped up as she rose from the bed, and Zoya's lips broke into a small smile at the droid's tilted head, "Come on," She gestured, the droid beeping excitedly as he dropped down to the floor and crawled up her leg to rest on her shoulder.
She grabbed the rope and pulled herself to the second floor of the hovel, tying it off as she walked up the ramp into the open air.
Her eyes surveyed the green horizon of the tiny planet, scouting a possible training area. After scaring away a few splox with her staff, she cleared out a place just above the abode and began to practice her katas.
It was much harder with a staff than a one handed weapon, but the moves were second nature to her.
She blocked and deflected, moving her feet back and forth against the invisible opponent. Her boots shuffled against the grass and dirt underneath her feet.
She pivoted with a strike, transitioning into more aggressive strokes and parries. Zoya thrusted the staff forward and kicked, deflecting an invisible blow and parrying it with one of her own.
The wildlife that floated by provided some sort of opponent to face, although none of them were as effective as another humanoid or even a trooper.
Her skills were stuck in the basics of the form, refusing to advance beyond what she didn't know.
And her stomach twisted if she so much as thought of touching the force again.
Not after what happened at the temple.
So she was stuck improvising what she could at the hands of oggdos and splox.
She settled back into her katas after another bout with an oggdo bogdo, using her staff to push the animal over the edge of the cliffside and into the cavernous void below.
Bogano was not an ideal planet to survive on, with its endless swamps, dangerous cliffsides, and aggressive wildlife, but Zoya had made a living for herself.
Not much of one, but still.
It was better than dying at the hands of the Emperor.
Or worse.
Zoya shivered.
It was almost as if she could feel the reach of the darkness all the way out here. It crept up on her like a shadow, and not even her training could stop the temptation she often felt.
But there was something else that lingered in the air, ripples of calm echoing through the force unconsciously.
The presence was a soft green, nearly dimmed from inactivity, but it was still there. If she hadn't spent the last five years meditating on a planet with a large Force presence, she might have missed it.
Sweat dripped down her brow as she finished up her Soresu katas, allowing herself a drink from her canteen before launching into the next set. The skin hung from a brown belt which cinched a grey cotton tunic around her waist, connecting to a small holster around her thigh.
The soft presence made her freeze, staring up into the sky as she searched for any sign of an outsider making their way to Bogano.
A moment passed, and when nothing changed, Zoya took another gulp.
Sweat dotted her neck and slid down her back, but the cool breeze and a splash of water revitalized her and Zoya entered her next set of katas.
Master Kenobi always made her do all six sets, but they always started with Soresu. The routine hadn't changed in five years, and she didn't plan on starting now.
The last set he never practiced with her, instead choosing to bow out and let Master Windu oversee her training for the Vaapad form. It was the most strenuous of the seven, and she hated every moment of it.
But here, where there was little to do and a day to waste, Zoya challenged herself to master the katas the way Master Windu had, although she knew she was nowhere close.
Her arms were awkward and clumsy, and by the time she reached the fifth step, they felt as if they were about to fall off.
BD-1 watched her with a tilted head, beeping little affirmations every now and then to keep her going, which she returned with a grateful nod.
She launched into the next stance when she felt it again.
Stronger this time.
Zoya stopped, staring up at the sky once more.
A shiver flew down her spine and BD-1 chirped anxiously in her ear.
"Yeah, I don't like it either," She commented, slinging her quarterstaff on her shoulder, "You wanna go check it out?"
BD trilled in excitement and jumped down from her shoulder, the familiar presence disappearing as spots of red and white rushed down the green planetside.
She crossed the bogs and swamps with speed, water-resistant boots squishing through the mud and dragging it across the cliffs and ledges as she scrambled across vines and jagged rocks back toward the hermit hole she'd been residing in for the last four years.
Climbing was about the only thing to do on Bogano and so Zoya had gotten to know the ins and outs of the planet.
There were few places she hadn't explored and fewer still that she couldn't climb or work around in some way.
She grabbed hold of one of the thick pipes that had become exposed and pulled herself up, feet light and soft as they danced across the top of the pipe, arms out to balance herself.
The world chirped and squawked and roared around her as she swung down into the hermit hole, landing securely on her feet.
The natural sounds of the planet were interrupted by the engine of a starship, and Zoya held her breath, eyes darting to the silver weapon laying on the table.
Having no desire to use it, yet unable to shake the routines of the past, she clipped it to the belt of her olive cargo pants, and readied her staff for whoever was coming through the door.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to reach out into the quiet of the force for a brief moment, and all she could feel was the soft green presence which had bumped up against her shields and sent a shiver down her spine.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she whirled around, her staff stopped by the brilliant blue blade of a lightsaber.
The phrik weapon withstood the beam of the sword, and Zoya's breath caught in her throat when she caught sight of the wielder.
It was a boy.
A human, force sensitive, boy.
He was tall and lanky, hair a bright fiery color, but it was his muted green gaze that caught her attention.
She'd seen them in her dreams.
They were sunken in, dark circles accentuated by his pale features and freckled face.
"Who the hell are you?" Her voice wavered, but her grip remained solid.
The boy refused to switch off his saber blade, breathing heavily, "That depends, who are you?"
Her gaze drifted to BD-1, who was now limping over to the boy with an expectant chirp.
He was looking for you! The droid trilled and it turned toward the boy, this is the jedi you're looking for!
Zoya shifted her gaze back to the stranger.
The stranger kept flicking his disbelieving gaze between her and the droid.
Why was he looking for a jedi?
Why was he looking for her?
The noise of a ship's engine rang in her ears and her stomach churned.
It meant he wasn't alone, and she was at a disadvantage.
The lightsaber color eased her worries slightly, although she knew it was far more likely that he had stolen it from a jedi rather than owned it.
And yet…something deep within Zoya wanted to trust him.
He shined emerald green, so bright it broke through her weak connection to the force and revitalized her.
The strength of his signature, the wide-eyed gaze.
She brought her staff back to her side, slinging it around her shoulder as she straightened up from her fighting stance, "I'm Zoya. Onasi."
Crossing her arms, she raised an eyebrow expectantly, "You gonna tell me who you are?"
Satisfied that she didn't seem interested in killing him, the boy sheathed his saber, clipping it to his belt and offering his gloved hand, "Cal Kestis."
Cal never used to dream until after the purge.
It was considered an anomaly among the Jedi, that he didn't dream. Dreams were pathways to visions, and many in the order relied on visions to outline the future of the jedi.
Not that it mattered much anymore, anyway.
Now all he saw when he slept was the deaths of those he'd failed.
Master Tapal, Prauf…
You gotta move on and live your life. Find your destiny…
Destiny wasn't something he'd thought about after the purge, instead he chose to focus on his survival.
Scenes of Bracca flashed through his mind, of the abednado finding a shivering redhead with a blaster scar and tiny hands, able to enter small places and scrap what others couldn't.
Of sharing meals and trading stories of the clone wars, Prauf detailing just how difficult it was with the separatist army turning fellow engineers against each other.
Cal shared as much as he could without giving anything away, but he knew the abednado was always wary of his guarded nature.
More scenes flashed, of red lightsabers and stormy weather and–
Cal, look out!
The final flash was a pair of bright blue eyes, illuminated in a violet glow.
Air rushed into his lungs and he jolted awake.
He was greeted by the black eyes of the latero pilot, whose unreadable expression stared down at him from a tilted face.
"You were talking in your sleep." Cal waited for more, but all he got was, "Weirdo."
The redhead shook off the latero's comment and pulled himself up from the durasteel bed in the back of the ship.
Or at least, he thought it was a bed.
A workbench sat directly beside it, and when he pulled out his saber to inspect it, he was disappointed to see that there was very little for him to work with on the Stinger.
The weight of his tool-kit hung at his side, most of it left behind on Bracca before he could pick it up, but the all-purpose tool sat snug, tucked and wrapped so tight that not even the force could rip it from him.
Or at least that was the thought behind it.
He moved from the tiny room near the back of the yacht towards the bridge and cockpit, catching sight of a kitchenette, table, and even a little terrarium before moving toward the seats on the bridge.
A hallikset sat against the leather-lined seats, humming with energy.
Cal reached out with his bare hand, and began to play.
The instrument had been well-loved, an unknown melody echoing through the force as he plucked the strings in a manner unfamiliar to him but well-known to the object.
He could see the gentle hands caressing the object, playing the song a multitude of times with no one bearing witness.
It was a memory, and it was one that the hallikset wished to relive once again.
"That song…"
Cal's eyes shot open to meet the gaze of the woman who'd saved him back on Bracca. Her skin was dark, eyes wide as she stared at how he handled the hallikset.
"...I wrote it, years ago."
The blood rushed to his cheeks, trying to shove the embarrassment aside like he had back at the temple.
His ability always brought weird looks and whispers with it, especially among his crechemates and fellow younglings before Master Tapal took him on as a padawan.
"You touch an object and witness events connected to it," Cere continued, smiling slightly as she pressed forward, "You feel its history."
Cal sighed, gently setting the instrument aside. His visions through objects was all that was left of his connection through the force, the rest broken and shattered after the events of the purge.
"It's an echo in the force from the object," Cal recited, recalling Healer Thul's explanation when he'd been sent to the medbay for a fainting spell in the archives.
Cere sat down beside him, "Not many Jedi have that skill."
Not many who do have it want it either, Cal thought, "How would you know that?"
The woman looked as if she was going to say something, but quickly changed her mind as she sat down beside him, "I was once a jedi, but not anymore."
Cal blinked, trying to recall any mention or reference to the woman before him. Of a Cere Junda or Master Junda in his mind.
All he could conjure up was a green lightsaber.
"Do I know you?"
Cere looked down, ""No," Cal deflated, "But I knew your master, Jaro Tapal," She continued, trying to lift his spirits, "He was a true guardian of the Republic."
Cal could still hear his voice.
Picture the day he chose him halfway through the Clone Wars.
"I sense you are afraid of failing someone," he'd said, kneeling down with a comforting hand and a sympathetic look, "yourself perhaps?"
"I don't want to be a bad jedi," Cal had said, shaking and twitching with a nervous energy, hands gloved in a thick leather which had been lost on Bracca. He'd remembered hearing about two of his crechemates being chosen as Padawans long before he was.
One even at the age of ten.
But Master Tapal had simply smiled at his fear and went, "You won't be, Cal Kestis. I promise you that."
The lump in Cal's throat grew bigger at the memory and he struggled to ignore the call of his Master's saber. "He was a hero," He choked out, trying not to think about the memories he'd sucked dry from the weapon hanging from his belt.
A moment passed, and Cal stared at the newly revealed Jedi beside him, wondering just how much he should tell.
But then again, if they were a jedi…
"Listen," He urged, adjusting his position so he was facing Cere. He inhaled sharply, "Something happened to me during the Purge. I survived but my connection to the force was…damaged," He looked down at his hands, trying not to feel the weight of Cere's gaze, "When I meditate–if I let my guard down–I lose control. It's like I'm back in that moment when…" He stared off into space, recalling the tight walls of an escape pod that closed in on him, and the singe of a blaster against his cheek.
Silence filled the ship.
Cere placed a hand on his knee, "You survived Cal," She spoke firmly, and something in his chest bloomed, "And you're not alone," He lifted his head to meet her gaze, which held no trace of pity and a glimpse of anger, "Not anymore."
For the first time since crash landing on Bracca, he actually believed it.
"We're coming up on our destination."
The ship descended and the doors opened up to a marshy planet with thick vines stretching out of the ground and wet flatlands frosting the tops of white and grey rock faces.
Several of the flatlands dropped off into sinkholes, ravines, and caverns that dotted the landscape, and Cal's boots sunk deep into the muddy grass with a disheartening squish.
"This is Bogano," Cere explained, wisely not moving an inch further from the ramp. A hint of a smile appeared on his face, "A Jedi I knew discovered it before the Purge. You won't find it on any maps."
Now that was news to Cal.
The Empire had mapped everything. How was it possible they hadn't found this?
"The Empire doesn't know this place exists?" He echoed his thoughts aloud, and Cere's smile grew wider.
"No."
Cal surveyed the landscape before him. There weren't many places to build a fortress or a home or even a hovel really, but anything was better than Bracca.
This planet at least had warm weather and blue skies instead of endless stormclouds.
"So, what's the plan?" He turned to face the Jedi, trying to figure out why she'd brought them here of all places. There could only be one option if the Empire didn't know about it, "Hide out here?"
Cere shook her head, finally striding down the ramp to join him, "We're done hiding Cal," Her tone was so definitive Cal almost believed her. "You see that structure over there?" he followed her pointed finger towards a jutting monolith on the horizon, barely able to make out the details if he squinted. It wasn't natural by any means, he could tell that much.
Whatever it was, it was humanoidmade.
Cere's smile remained on her face, "I believe that Vault holds the key to rebuilding the Jedi Order," Again, more news to Cal. She turned to face him with a wry expression, "But it requires someone strong in the force to pass its test."
Cal resisted the urge to scoff.
And now the truth comes out.
This was never about rescuing him, about helping him hide from the Empire. About helping him survive.
There was always another motive.
Always another angle.
"And since you're not a jedi anymore, that's why you need me." Cal spoke flatly, a tinge of bitterness seeping through.
Cere was already on the defense, "I know you don't trust me, and I'm not really sure I trust you. But we have a common enemy." Red flashed through his mind, "And a common cause. I'll share more of my plan after you reach the Vault. But, until then," She smirked and stared out at the horizon before moving back toward the ramp, "There's someone here I think you should meet. May the force be with you"
Let's hope it is, he thought to himself, the ship doors hissing shut behind him.
He stared out at the horizon once more.
Cal shook his head and began to wander the planetside, following the well-worn path down a series of white cliffs.
Someone he should meet. A Jedi.
But all of the Jedi were extinct, wiped out in the purge and hunted not long after.
There were none left.
His eyes drifted to his gloved hand, flexing it back and forth.
Well, that wasn't entirely true.
Cal looked around the planet as he stumbled into a small clearing, blue skies untainted by mining smog and the landscaped untouched.
It really did seem like this planet had escaped unscathed by the war.
If a Jedi did manage to escape the purge, it made sense for them to be hiding out here.
The strength of the Force alone nearly knocked him off his feet when they landed.
It sent him reeling, head aching from the sheer presence.
He knelt in the marshy grass, closing his eyes and opening himself up to the force, putting all his energy into mending the broken connection, but all it did was fizzle and crackle.
He forced himself to remember Master Tapal's teachings but came up blank, the crumbling walls and messy floors of his apartment on Bracca all his mind could conjure up.
His hand drifted to his tool kit before gently rubbing his bare fingers against the emitter of his Master's lightsaber.
The touch is just enough to revitalize the broken connection and recall one of his former moves from combat.
It wasn't much, but it soothed the knotting sensation growing in Cal's stomach and the tension melted from his shoulders.
His shields flew up at the presence of another signature, it pressed up against the edges of his own but went no further.
It was an iridescent violet, stretching out from somewhere in the planet, and Cal forced himself to focus, straining to pinpoint where exactly the presence was located.
He struggled, and when flashes of his dreams began to push their way to the forefront of his mind, he pulled himself free.
Booo-woop?
Cal's stared at the droid now sitting in front of him—had it been there before?-and tilted his head at its question.
Was he alright? He honestly couldn't answer.
Hello? It beeped out again.
He turned his attention back to the droid, wondering just how long it had been sitting there, and who it belonged to.
"Hey," Cal glanced at the number etched into its head, "BD-1, I'm Cal."
Are you okay?
Cal's mouth went dry and he nodded, "Uh, yeah I'm okay, I'm just…I'm looking for someone."
Is it me? Am I who you're looking for?
The beeps had grown more excited, and Cal's lips twitched for a second before shaking his head, "No, not you, I'm searching for uh…" He stopped for a moment. Who was he searching for? "A Jedi, I think."
The droid began to whirl and trill and click in excitement, jumping up and down.
Jedi?! I know a Jedi! It's not too far from here!
"Hold on," Cal arched a skeptical brow, unable to believe his luck, "You know the Jedi? What do you know?"
This way!
"Wait," Cal reached out a hand, scrambling up, "Hold on!"
Instead of answering his questions, BD-1 scurried off toward a gear box and sliced it, a metal bridge extending out across the chasm toward a vine covered wall.
Cal followed the droid across the sheer cliffsides, trading comments and questions as he pulled himself up onto the firmer flatlands.
Two spires jutted out of a hill in a monolith, and something hooked behind Cal's naval, pushing him to continue forward.
The Ancient Vault.
It had to be.
The Jedi must be in there.
BD-1 chirped and a blue light flickered near the droid's left eye, projecting what appeared to be a map of the planet.
Most of it consisted of the spots Cal had already been to, such as the landing pad and where they were now.
There was a small area ahead unknown to Cal but had been mapped out by BD-1.
He figured if the Jedi wasn't in the vault, then they must be in there.
Cal leapt over rocks and crags, using the vines to pull himself over to another clearing, this time with a towering iron door.
He reached out to press the latch to open it, but it flashed red.
Locked.
BD-1 trilled further down the bluffs and Cal followed until he reached a large pipe jutting out of the rock face.
He balanced precariously as BD-1 grew more excited, the droid's beeping faster than Cal could keep up with.
Come on! Its right through here, you're almost there and–
The droid whined.
"BeeDee!" Cal called out, dropping down into a circular area and slicing through a pale wormlike figure with one eye which had dug its claws into the little explorer droid.
BD began to limp, and Cal moved to engulf the droid in his arms when something pushed up against his shields.
His lightsaber pulsed with energy as he brought it to meet the oncoming force.
His saber pressed against the metal of a quarterstaff, and the same bright blue eyes that haunted his dreams now stared back at him.
"Who the hell are you?" The voice was guttural, and belonged to a girl his age with thick dark hair that fell behind her shoulders.
She was tanned and lithe, wrists wrapped in gauze with leather cuffs around her right wrist and left bicep.
Even with his broken connection, Cal could feel the violet glow emanating off her in the force.
"That depends," He panted, "Who are you?"
BD-1 chirped as he limped over to the girl, the brunette eyeing the droid before turning back to Cal.
She lowered her staff and slung it over her shoulder. "I'm Zoya. Onasi."
Cal stared at the girl, eyes drifting over her frame as he caught sight of a lightsaber hanging from her waist.
He brought his eyes back to her face, scanning it before sheathing his lightsaber.
"Cal Kestis," He held out his gloved hand, which she eyed for a brief moment before taking it in her own.
A searing, white-hot pain flashed in his mind and he pulled away.
When he opened his eyes again, the girl was clutching her arm with a wide-eyed expression. Cal clutched his wrist, the pain still pulsing through his body.
"What the kark was that?" The girl muttered.
His breathing slowed and he shook his head, "I have no idea."
The two stared at each other while BD-1 chirped in curiosity and the force around them hummed.
THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT ON THIS STORY! It's very quickly becoming one of my favorite fanfics!