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 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, buildings, and 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. Thankfully, her surroundings keep her mind off it, focusing on the clear blue sky and the yellow crops 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 and spots Imperial ships above, searching for her. F stays still for several minutes till the ships are done circling the area and soar away. The serene silence returning, F sighs in relief before continuing her journey.
Not long afterward, she spots a lone hut to her left. That is, if she could call it a hut. For lack of a better word, the decimation has left it with a hollow metal shell. F soon notices it is not just the so-called hut but how dead this area is—traces of blaster ash scatter about, and evidence of crops uprooted. The wounds are not too old but not 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, not one person made it out…."
Habit or not, F's words steel herself as she enters the forest with the doll.
/-/-/-/-/
It is not long before moonlight peeks through the tree line. Lying against the base of one tree, F rests beside her crackling campfire and the running river nearby. Her nap ends when her ears perk and her eyes scan the darkness around her.
She felt 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 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. She's taken aback at stumbling upon 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. "Looks to have been here for three years...during 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. 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, one of several times she saw rural civilians scavenging droids and republic fighters. If the people here are 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 resting spot. 'In fact, since a few days ago, I haven't seen anyone out here….'
/-/-/-/-/
It is another day, another morning, and the last thing F sees before waking up is a haunting memory. A fierce flash of bright blue plasma and burning flesh. Her breath quivers before her eyes snap open to the morning mist coating the forest. 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 to her feet, holding her jaw and hissing through her teeth until the terrible ache dies.
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 mind.
A blue blade seared through her jawbone. Blood ran down her left eye. The burnt smell of her flesh smelled from her broken nose and-
F breaths. Like within the memory, everything around her is a blur. Unlike said memory, she does not pass out from the pain and composes herself. 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 blast holes and carbon scars riddling the abandoned dome-shaped metal houses on either side. F turns to an empty shop, its holographic sign fizzling. She peeks inside to see it's been torched, with a horrid burning stench lingering inside, a smell F knows too well. F then finds a damaged public water dispenser on the street; 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 blows 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. The blasts echo, and F whirls to the sound of another door opening.
"Don't shoot!" a voice shouts.
F's blaster points to a man beside open cellar doors on the eastern street opposite the market building. The man was quite old, wearing tarnished green engineer clothes, brown gloves, and cracked goggles. Though unarmed, his hands are still up until 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 toward 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 building.
Tapping into her power, she 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."
As vehicles pull up, F and the old man turn to the front entrance. 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 fowl grin and old eyepatch looks like a mish-mash clone war gear. He has a prosthetic right arm made of droid parts and donned red ARC trooper armor. F spots the other bandits with Republic and Separatist weapons, vehicles, and armor.
"Takagi," F hears the old man whisper, "I recognize that vile laugh… he's deathly serious about every threat he makes."
F looks back at the group outside, briefly gripping her lightsaber before an idea forms. "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 there. 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 else 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 were the only ones," he says, raising his droid prosthetic to make his point.
"Indeed," F sighs, finishing her work, "but 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 plan to take him with ya… and I can't let that happen."
Hearing the whirl of blasters about to fire, F ignites her crude smoke bombs, 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 is still on it before the old man shoves him off. The raider is briefly baffled his speeder is being 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 can notice. F maintains a high speed when the old man points to the northeast. She decides to follow his guidance, hoping where they're going is safe.
/-/-/-/-/
F and her new companion's ride ends upon spotting a settlement, the sun setting in the distance. Upon closer inspection, F sees a large town surrounded by a high wall. Looking up reveals a white energy spire emitting a ray shield dome protecting it. F sees her companion pull out a compact device that deactivates the ray shield with a few button presses and opens the wall gates. 'This, along with the wall, explains why he's safe from the raiders,' she thinks while entering.
F cruised through the main street, she saw the dome houses and buildings adorned with plants and greenery on both rows. Water sprinklers kept them healthy enough for flowers to bloom. The water droplets on them twinkled against the light of street lamps. Despite the plant 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," Jiro answers as she stops.
When she does, something moves in the structures. The somethings 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. What do you go by?"
"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 hangar 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. Walking, F sees most of the droids continue caring for the town and plants, some even conversing amongst 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 ship repair center or junkyard—either term works. There's more in the large yard beyond the large door, but 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, glance at the kitchen in the corner, 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. They're a good person. They're the reason I'm not dead, so please grab an extra bowl for them. They'll be our guest for tonight."
As the droid did, F took a seat, "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 eliminate 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 shrugs and walks off, taking K8-T0 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 removing her mask. The soup was easier for her, 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 go 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.
"You won't find another like me for miles." Just as F reprimands her assumption and how it nearly got her lost or even killed, the old man continues, "and people like me are now valuable around here. When the war started, and our resources were plundered by Separatist raids or Republic reallocation, it 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. She could only imagine how much longer this fighting and suffering could continue. "I don't think there's anything even you could do about it," he says dejectedly.
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 interesting for a Jedi on the run to ask," the old man said.
F asks cautiously, "And what does that mean to you? Me being a Jedi?"
"Nothing," the old man raised his hands. "What would snitching on you do but attract more trouble?" Despite his assurance, F refrains 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 had to do with the history behind those blueprints she found. Suddenly, the man walks past her, mumbling, "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, I guess you know how to properly reactivate a damaged ion jet engine without 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 mechanic training went far but never to 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 I need to think about this for my reasons, so give me one night, please?"
F taps her heels before nodding yes, then the old man and his droid 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 cooking up. 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 showing many 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.
"Separatist terrorist Tawni Ames killed on Desix. Brave squadron liberates Desix and saves captors, 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 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, the remaining systems will surrender, 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... never mind," she groaned, today's fatigue catching up. 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. Trying to sleep on the couch, she whispers, "too soft, "realizing she can't do it. F sleeps on the hard 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 a while ago, to where he did not inform us," the droid answered. The way it moves tells F that her bafflement is more than evident. "Don't fret. He does this often."
"With these raiders, 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 is the source of the crash. F watched her step to see a box tower falling over K8, "What were you doing?" she wondered while using the Force to lift the droid and box off the ground.
The droid beeps thankfully before bumping into a particular box, insisting she looks; F takes a quick peek. It was filled with miscellaneous things, except for a hologram projecting a family photo: a husband and wife with their son, daughter, and grandmother.
"Is this his family?" F asks K8, feeling like she intrudes 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, 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 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, over a hundred yards long and eighty 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 a dozen ships. "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. As tempting as it may be, a Nu-class attack shuttle lacks its massive wings that would require specific materials to replicate. The V-wing starfighter also catches her eye; since the Empire still uses them, it could provide extra cover. However, the guns were busted, and 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, 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 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 of Aradia. 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, shutting 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 meditates on this and thinks back to her technical training, hoping she was 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 to bring up the topic, okay?"
F ventures deeper into the yard, her growing irritation causing her not to notice a ship's nose in front of her. She clutches her head upon bumping into it, pausing upon recognizing the red and white Republic colors on the nose tip. Taking a step back, she looks 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. K8-T0 beeps and Jiro's arrival doesn't disturb her concentration, raising the last debris into the air.
"Incredible," Jiro marvels.
The last piece of junk is thrown aside by F. She gasps upon finding a Clone War-era fighter with its worn-out white and red engines, damaged yet sleek design, and slightly snubbed long nose. "Huh, I don't remember collecting this," the old man shares on the clone Z-95 starfighter.
However, F could never forget the design of a ship she flew into battle. 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, concluding that if she could repair its engines and reattach one of its clipped wings, it could fly again.
"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, leaving F alone with the ship.
Once the old man was out of earshot, F carefully hopped on the old starfighter and popped open the cockpit. Caring little for the seat's skeletal frame, 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 the old buttons and switches.
With every push and flip, F recalls her first flight with her old ship and imagines reliving that moment once this ship is back on its feet.
/-/-/-/-/-/
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 refurbish the fission engines, which were practically replaced, given how many parts he used.
Done 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 need more polish, 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 sees his jaded expression and a distant look in his eyes, the same look as last night. It is as if he wants to detach himself while building the ship and not think about it.
Remembering why she pulls out the worn-out doll from her duffel bag. Taking a deep breath, she says, "Old man."
"Jiro," he shares.
"Jiro… do you have a family?" she asks, but Jiro continues to work. "Apologies, but I saw your astromech trapped under some boxes in your room this morning. He was insistent on me looking at one of them… which had a family hologram, but you weren't in it."
The old man pauses. "Yes…I did have one," he says, "that was my wife with our son's family."
F puts on her mask. Rising, she asks, "Why weren't you in it? Did it have to do with the Corellian blueprints upstairs? Who are you?"
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. I remember the day my mother built a real ship, the only one in a hundred miles, and 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 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 so 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 asked him about his."
"So your passion for this role, this new you, ultimately 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 before me, and all I thought about was how much of a fool I would be not to 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; beside it is his son's hand blaster. "I tried my best but couldn't build a ship whose only purpose was to kill others. They're meant for exploration…freedom, you understand, right?"
F nods. "For Jedi, we were taught to use the Force 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 ships I built rain fire on 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 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, sensing Jiro's feelings from the day he finally returned to Aradia. Confusion and fear at finding an empty town, joy in discovering where his family has been relocated, and devastation upon finding the 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 to his knees. He barely clings to a machine but can't stop 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 those butchers came!"
The rising resentment that F senses vanish within Jiro. He could only mutter, "My wife… son… and his beautiful family, 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 says, "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 plead for forgiveness."
F waits until Jiro takes a deep breath and slowly picks himself up. His eyes are dry; he looks down at the doll when K8-T0 bumps his leg, sewing materials on the droid's head for the doll. 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 hangar doors, and she swears an old light is relit with resolve. "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."
/-/-/-/-/-/
Since arriving at Aradia, F has seen its sunrise enough times to lose count. So when F witnesses dawn approaching in the distance, she hopes today will be the last time she sees it. Following it is another long day of constructing her starfighter. 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 the ground.
Snapping back to reality, F carefully inserts the pilot seat into 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 are armed and ready before landing the ship back down.
Jumping out, she blows away the dust kicked as Jiro claps at a well-done job. F chuckles at the gesture, pointing out, "It's almost done. Also, you got dust on your- everywhere."
"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 trailing elsewhere.
F follows Jiro and K8 back to the hangar to a large worktable in the center of the main floor. Jiro's custom-built hyperdrive engine project was covered in a large black tarp. F never considered building one from the ground up, let alone letting it be done by one person. However, Jiro has surprised her with his skills and luck at finding needed parts, but 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. So without the damper, your chances of being crushed by the enormous acceleration of a space jump become two to one."
"Of course," 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 sight of the ship, and Jiro points 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, 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, 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 of that place 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 if Takagi tries 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 the metallic 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 she sees in the drive-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. Between them are a scattered graveyard of droid parts, clone armor, tanks, and 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 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, the innards of the dying metallic beast echoing ominously. F gives the droid an assured pat on the head, checking the ship's holographic diagram. "Looks like it's in there. Hangar thirteen," F says, pointing at the hangar on their right.
"Good eye, Jedi. Course, it also had to be 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, primarily due to the lack of light and Jiro's struggle to recall the last location of the hyperdrive docking ring. The one the trio finds lies against the damaged hangar's far wall. While Jiro and K8 inspect its large engines, F feels unease lingering. 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 smiles 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 with precision and delicacy. F follows her two guides 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 it during take-off. Its abrupt stop flings the raider to the ground, snapping 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 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, "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, clipping the grenades to her waist but leaving the pistol 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, easing 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 has to grab to stop. "It's just another battle," she tells Jiro, suddenly sensing 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 engines roar, disrupting the serene atmosphere.
F stands firm while the raiders cross the ridge, stopping two hundred yards where she stands. 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 armed to the teeth and 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 feel 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, fill your heart with determination. Courage will carry you this battle,' she recites, following her master's teachings.
"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 with a great, fast throw, destroying one of the speeders and surprising the raiders.
"Twenty-four left," F whispers, lifting a ship wing and aiming her next shot. Sweat flies from her brow when she throws, hitting another speeder, 'Twenty-two.' Suddenly, the tank's fire lands 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 sandbags, watching one speeder to her right circle around in the distance while the other scours the center field.
'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 hers, 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 the tank shoots it away. With infantry fire now raining down, this 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 at the still-active walker, decimating it and three infantry. 'Seventeen,' F counts, using the confusion and smoke to charge the two stalled walkers. She quickly cuts down four infantry, destroying the walkers with a detonator. 'Eleven,' she counts.
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 is so overwhelming that her hand is lightly burnt red. 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, two heavy infantry armed with rotary blaster cannons appears out of the smoke. 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 at 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 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 she 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 top hatch.
F lands behind, ducking from the explosion, the tank finally eliminated.
"Zero," F gasps 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 of the war. F's hands quiver upon reflecting on her actions, and her mind closes to her surroundings. This blocks F from sensing a presence until it is too late. She sees Takagi stumble away, seemingly having jumped out of the tank in time.
Before she can ignite her lightsaber, Takagi pulls out a detonator and tosses it beside F. She 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 legs shook when she stood up and found Takagi gone, her senses picking him up and running toward the cruiser.
"J-Jiro..." she grunts, gasping for air and forcing herself to trudge quickly.
Her vision was 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 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 electro staff; her weary eye seeing his seething anger as she collapsed. "He couldn't stop resisting because of his stupid blaster. He 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, and her senses and ability to move weakened. However, all she heard at that moment was Takagi's cruel last words repeating repeatedly: "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. F saw darkness as if she's gone blind despite her eyes unharmed. F was only aware of her consciousness and hearing for several moments while experiencing a 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, she first saw the electro-staff crushed, which ignites a recent memory. 'No, I didn't black out. 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, broken his weapon, and snapped his neck without lifting a finger. "Such power," F whispers with a quiver of fear, that taste of power fresh in her mind.
F looks at herself in horror at what she failed to prevent, recalls how powerful she felt with that power, and tries her best to be mortified at the dark side's strength rather than letting it tempt her again. "Why...why again?!"
A weak cough snaps F out of her despair, turning to Jiro, who was weakly mumbling. She reaches him right as he opens his eyes, his breath weakening.
"Jiro, I'm sorry," F laments. Her throat burned while restraining any visceral emotion that'll set off her powers again. "I failed you. I wasn't strong enough to protect you."
"F-fix…" Jiro mutters, and F carefully listens. "Fix...Kato," he asks, his final request.
F nods, "I will. He'll be okay." Then, Jiro raises his arm, pointing to the sky above. F looks up as Jiro silently reminds her of his vow, aiding her mission to attain freedom from this world. Looking at his weary smile, she tells him, "I'll fly away from this world to my freedom, I swear. 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 healed F stands before a gravestone in a quiet garden in the center of Jiro's town, surrounded by his many droids. She sets down a white flower by Jiro's grave, engraved with the phrase: "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 save one life as she comforted the mourning droid. F walks back to the hangar with no more words, prepping her starfighter in the shipyard for take-off with a one-of-a-kind hyperdrive. Nearly ready, the other droids approached her to bid her a proper farewell. "Jedi," the protocol droid says, "we're thankful for you bringing peace to this land and helping honor Jiro. What should we do now?"
F got in her seat and answered, "That's entirely up to all of you. Use your freedom now to do what you think is best."
After a brief silence, K8 beeps to the others, who all agree. The protocol droid says, "Then it's settled. We'll continue rebuilding this town and make it greener than ever. Perhaps locals 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 to say as she realized she had finally made it.
Placing her hand against her window, F stares at 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. Check their work on for more!
A/N: And that was the last chapter of the Aradia Arc. Developing this unknown world of the galaxy and writing about F in my first arc has been very interesting. I hope what's been hinted at with F interests you all. She's awesome to write, and writing characters for her to interact with is a fun way to explore these worlds.