Many Years Ago…

Killian Nori was the Jedi who trained Elle. He was a man who never took no for an answer. And at the same time, never a yes either. Killian knew there were always more than two solutions to a problem, no matter the issue. Life was not black and white--red or blue. It was a mix of tertiary colors.

"Elle, you are down on the ground. Beaten, humiliated. Odds are not in your favor, what do you do?"

Elle laid face up on the soft ground made of cork, arms outstretched and her eyes closed. She breathed in and out, a mild chill came over her as she connected herself to the force. Killian stood above her, his arms crossed behind his back, a calm composure.

"I pause." She said.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Killian smirked at her response as he picked up and held a dowel rod in both hands over her head. Suddenly he heaved up and brought the rod down, but Elle instantly caught it between her hands in a clap. She gripped it and shoved it back into Killian's forehead, knocking him to the ground. Elle jumped up and held the rod over his head.

"You are on the ground," Elle repeated back to him, "Odds are not in your favor."

Killian smiled and stood slowly, knocking the rod from her hands. He rested an arm around her shoulder and walked with her through the garden of his home, "You don't need me to tell you, but the odds are always in your favor; as a Jedi, and as you-Elle Gana. The Force exists within you in equal measure, it is a constant struggle of balance within the mind. The galaxy needs more Jedi's like you, Elle."

"You mean like you, Master Killian?" Elle smirked.

"Yes, I suppose by proxy me as well. But I feel I must be completely honest with you, having taken on your training you must know this will be my last duty." Killian and Elle sat together on a bench over looking a field.

"What do you mean?" She inquired.

"As a Jedi, my last act will be to train you to my furthest ability. After that my life will, oh--how they say...be complete." Killian spoke solemnly, looking out into the field.

"But Master Kill-"

"Our next lesson with be on accepting the fates you cannot change, young Elle." Elle rolled her eyes and played with the end of her lightsaber. "Do you want to know why I've chosen you as my last responsibility?"

"I think you're going to tell me anyway." Killian scuffed and brushed his shoulder with hers.

"Give me your hand." Killian took her hand and held it up, palm facing outwards. "Look at your hand. When I first met this hand it nearly killed me. You have so much untainted, natural power in these hands-I was in shock. Only the highest ranking had that type of immeasurable connection to the force, but the laws of our galaxy never seemed to apply to you."

"I think you're being a bit dramatic, Killian."

"Shut up." Killian said, still gazing at her hand in wonder. "This hand moved a ship, stole my lightsaber straight out of my hand, knocked me clean off my feet and half way across a loading bay. I thought I was about to be confronted by a Sith Lord--but no...just a little girl, who was upset our ship landed near her mother's flower beds." Elle smirked, remembering her temper tantrum fondly. "I had never met anyone like you before. And I knew in the wrong hands you could be swayed to an extreme, I couldn't let that happen."

"I think I could have held my own, eventually."

"You think that, young Elle, but you do not know it for certain." He sighed, lowering her hand and taking her lightsaber into his own. "You must think, and consider all options, and learn to let go of the options not in your midst of capability. Our roles are difficult, as a branch of the Jedi who refuse to take a side in a war that's been raging for years, and will continue longer than we realize. We must think above ourselves, fight for what we think is right, if fighting is right, for the cultivation of peace. We are privy to this natural power, you and I, like all Jedi and Sith alike. We must be careful with it, lest we lose focus of what really matters."

"And what really matters, Master Killian?"

Killian lifted her lightsaber to her, "Preservation of life."

Currently…

"Hello!" Elle waved at the lone person who exited the mysterious ship, the person began to shiver at the cold. "It's subzero out here, you're gonna have to find something a bit warmer!" The man nodded and ran back into the ship.

Elle quickly checked her side bag for her lightsaber just to be sure. Satisfied it was there she stepped up to the ship as the man came back out in a massive coat. Elle almost chuckled at the absurdity.

"Do you live here?" The man asked, she nodded. "Anyone else live here?"

"Why do you want to know?" She asked suspiciously, looking around his big fluffy coat and into the ship for any weapons or other passengers. The man wore all black and a little black felted hat. He looked...official, for lack of a better word. "Are you alone? Did you pilot this ship here?"

The man was silent for a moment before reaching into his coat, Elle quickly unsheathed her lightsaber and blocked a shot from the man's blaster. He shot at her again and again until she finally got close enough to stab him in the chest. And for a moment she was surprised it got through that massive coat.

Suddenly she heard a commotion in the ship and cursed. She nodded at BB-8, "Stay here."

The droid beeped nervously, Be Careful, and she slowly stepped onto the ship-her footsteps silent. The lights were bright, the interior almost completely black and grey. She knew it immediately. The First Order.

In the back of the bay a door slid open and four stormtroopers flooded toward her shooting at her from all angles. She quickly dove for cover and let out a nervous breath. She closed her eyes and calmed herself.

Then everything went blank and she twisted her body out from behind cover and ran for the stormtroopers. She killed two instantly, and kicked one in the chest, knocking him into the other.

They both stood and charged for her but she quickly slashed both at the same time. They fell to the ground with a thud.

Elle breathed heavily, her hair messy, her glasses crooked. She felt a small droplet of sweat trickle from her temple down her face and neck. Slowly she stood up straight, still observing the area around her. That was a little too easy, Elle thought to herself.

Suddenly a blast came out from behind her and Elle fell like a rock to the ground. She had been hit in the side, her hand immediately clamped at the wound, but blood still gushed out between her fingers. She twisted and looked at a lone stormtrooper in the corner, who's armor was only half on--obviously was still getting ready when Elle barged in. She gripped her side harder and coughed out, a spatter of blood coated the metal floor around her.

The stormtrooper stepped forward but was suddenly electrocuted, sparks coating the trooper's armor like lightning in the sky, and fell to the floor in an unconscious or possibly deceased, slump.

Elle looked around to find the cause and saw BB-8. Elle smiled and shook as she struggled to stand. Always loyal, that little droid.

"I thought I told you to stay behind." BB-8 beeped back, I said be careful.

Elle chuckled as she caught a good grip on the floor but slipped back hard on the ground. She groaned out, still cough.

Should I send out the distress signal? BB-8 chimed erratically.

"Yes." Elle murmured. She began to crawl toward the door as BB-8 rushed back to their ship to send out Elle's prerecorded distress call to the Resistance.