IE XI: SECOND-IN COMMAND
The squad came back from the woods with terrified faces. Roslin was carried on a stretcher, unconscious by the hit she took. Peyton came back with a bite wound in her leg and a poorly made decision to whine about.
Now waiting in the corridor of the Medbay, Eva leans against the wall with her arms crossed, tapping her fingers on her wrists nervously. She can't think of anything but the reaction of the squad when they discover it was her who requested this mission. Only Peyton knows of this. While she believes searching for this Padawan was important, the squad will undoubtedly have a heated word with her. The anxiety keeps rising.
Slowly, her heart fills with regret, regret to have requested this mission. The enemy was far too strong than she ever anticipated, even when she had so many security forces supporting her. She should have let it go. What she wanted was almost impossible.
"Ecklund," Eva nearly whispers. "Do you think it was a mistake?"
On the opposite side of her, Ecklund is leaning against the wall, staring into the far end of the corridor with her arms crossed. Eva looks up at her as Ecklund makes eye contact. Her round glasses twinkle like two stars.
"The mission?" asks Ecklund.
Eva nods.
Ecklund's crossed arms tighten and she lets out a faint sigh of unease. "I-, I don't know."
Eva presses her lips and looks away with uncertainty.
Then, the door of the Medroom slides open and Ashara walks out. The red sigil on the chest of her medic's uniform twinkles in the light. "Hey, I got her treated. Come take a look."
Eva nods and follows Ashara into the Medroom. There, on a bed, she finds Roslin. Her shoulder and left leg are wrapped in a bandage and it reminds Eva of Eline's broken leg she suffered after the Rebel air raid. It makes her heart sink in her chest for a moment as Roslin's exhausted eyes shift to her.
"Hey," Eva stammers, approaching her bed. "How are you?"
Roslin shakes her head and smirks. "I fought a Rancor as you can see."
Eva chuckles and sighs with relief. "I'm happy you're okay. What do you have?"
Roslin stammers and her eyes drift to Ashara at the back of the Medroom. "Ashara?"
Ashara brushes past Eva's shoulder. "You got a mild concussion, a dislocated shoulder, and a sprained leg."
Eva presses her lips. "That's… a whole lot. Rough."
Ashara nods. "You're one of the luckiest of the search party though. Some had their legs torn off."
Their legs torn off? Like paper? Dank Ferrik. Eva's lungs shiver. She imagines the screams of a soldier, flooded with tormenting, unimaginable pain as the teeth of his own Lurca rips off his leg. Blood flushes over the ground, the same way the Rebel robber did when his face met the grill of the speeder truck coming in with full force. It becomes all the more clear to her how chaotic it was, and that makes her thoughts drift away to Peyton. She was bit by a Lurca too. How is she? Is she alright? Is she safe?
"How's Peyton?" Eva asks, her breaths growing shallow. "She didn't lose a leg, did she?"
Ashara chuckles and brushes past her shoulder. "No, silly. She didn't. She's doing fine. I'll check in on her," and she lifts a white curtain that splits off the Medroom from another. She vanishes and quickly, Ashara returns with the arm of Peyton over her shoulder.
Eva's eyebrows rise with relief and she nearly smiles, but seeing Peyton staggering with one leg covered in a bandage, she can't feel much of the joy at seeing her. At least she's well and alive.
"Peyton," Eva gasps as her eyes dart around, from her swollen eyes and red cheeks to her staggering leg. "How-, how are you?"
Peyton shares eye contact as Ashara lets go of her arm. She nods with pressed lips. "I'm fine."
"What happened?" Eva asks.
Peyton breathes sharply through her nose. Her eyes drift away with fear. "I was-, dragging this trooper away. The Lurcas completely destroyed his left leg. He couldn't stand, so I dragged him away. And then-, a Lurca ran to me and attacked me before I could react. It was-, horrible. I was lucky that the same trooper still had his blaster. Yeah. It was horrible. The droid in the back told me it would heal for the most part within a day, so that's luck at an unlucky time."
"You lucky nerfherder," Roslin snaps at her with discontent. "Within a day? What a luxury you have. I won't be able to walk on my own for a week."
Peyton nods. "Well, at least you didn't need to endure the pain, so I guess that's lucky on your part. I guess you'll be off duty for a while, no? What now?"
"Yeah. We have a bit of a situation," says Roslin. "Training will continue, but I won't be able to remain in command for a few days, and that's a bit of a problem. The squad's steerless now."
Eva nods. "Yeah. Who's going to take over command?"
Roslin shrugs. "I don't know. I got no one appointed as Lieutenant Commander yet, so this might be a good time to decide."
For a brief moment, Eva's mind clears like the sun breaking through the storm clouds with excitement. What if I become second-in-command? I'd be Roslin's right-hand man. That's like Lord Vader and the Emperor. That would be so kriffing astral! Finally, I can be something big instead of just being a footsoldier.
The rushing excitement almost makes her jump into the air as Roslin shifts her eyes to Peyton.
"Peyton, I assume you'll return to duty tomorrow?" Roslin asks.
"Yes sir," Peyton responds. "With a Bacta patch, it will heal in no time. I'm open for the contract."
Roslin nods and moves on to the next in line. "Eva?"
Eva smiles. "Definitely."
"Ashara?"
The girl steps forward. "I'm honoured, but you guys get wounded too often," she smiles. "Being a medic is tough enough. I can't juggle two jobs at once. Besides, the command structure here would just-, be all over the place."
Squad medics have the option to overrule the commander if the health of a squadmember is at stake. Eva understands that Ashara would rather not mess up the chain of command. It would get more tangled up than the average charging cable.
Roslin nods. "Got it. You, Ecklund?"
Ecklund stands in the far back, half enshrouded in the shadow of a closet. She shakes her head a little. "No, sir."
"Why not?" Roslin asks.
"Well, I'm the quiet kid," Ecklund responds with half a smile. "I don't think I have sufficient social skills to command."
"Noted," Roslin responds, and she looks at Eva and Peyton. "So, it's between you two," and she presses her lips with uncertainty. "This is gonna be tough to decide, you're both great soldiers."
Eva smiles, blushing at her commander's compliment until she glances at Peyton and notices the coldness in her eyes. It's one of determination and discernment. Eva has never seen such a look directed sharply at her like vibroblades, out to get her.
Peyton inhales sharply through her nose and looks at Roslin, looking through her eyelashes, seemingly calculating her next moves.
"Peyton, convince me," says Roslin.
"Roslin, whenever we split up in three teams, you and Ashara, me and Eva, and Ecklund alone, I've always been the officer in command of my team," argues Peyton. "We've done three raids on Rebel-infested places and over a dozen in simulations and in each raid I've had the commanding role. I already have the skills of a commander to lead. That alone makes me the best candidate."
In less than a second, Peyton glances quickly at Eva before turning away. In that fraction of time, Eva notices the coldness in her eyes has become even colder. Peyton's tone sounds ambitious, wanting to take the next step to climb higher into the ranks, but at the same time, almost hostile as well. It hits a string in Eva's chest the wrong way. It's as if Peyton, no matter her commanding skills, doesn't want her to take the spot as Lieutenant Commander; as if they've suddenly become each other's greatest competitors. In some way, they are, but Peyton's voice sounds like it's covered with heat. It seems like Peyton no longer has any trust in Eva's skills. This, coupled with the coldness in her eyes towards her, makes Eva feel nervous. Her heartbeat speeds up and her throat dries up.
She wants to become Roslin's right hand so much, but she knows she has no defense to become one. Peyton is correct. She has the skill set and thus the basis of a Lieutenant Commander already. Eva has none. Sure, she has taken the lead on a few things, but only during solo missions, never when the squad relied on her thinking and insight.
However, that sweet spot next to Roslin is all too inviting. The lack of a defense can be sufficiently compensated with a good offense, and Eva bets her chances on that. And she knows how. Peyton's position is already occupied. She is the squad's slicer. She already has a task she has to focus on during training and real operations. Being a Lieutenant Commander at the same time will distract her from her slicing duties. She isn't able to command if all her eyes are glued to her datapad. Eva in the meantime, has no task. Ever since her first seconds elapsed at the Academy, as soon as the test results of the medical checks were in, she's been a footsoldier, a private, an ensign. A simple footsoldier. Nothing more, nothing less. This empty spot first felt like an unrecognition of the Academy, as if they had nothing planned for her, as if she was the filler episode of a HoloNet drama series. Now, this empty spot has become an opportunity. A golden one, even if she has no commanding skills. Those can be learned anyway.
Immediately, as soon as Peyton is finished making her case, Eva swallows and opens her mouth. "Roslin, I want to be your Lieutenant Commander, because I'm still open. I'm nothing more but a footsoldier. I have no task other than chasing you. Peyton's a slicer, she's already occupied. I am not. If I were Lieutenant Commander, I would put 100 per cent of my focus on my job. Peyton cannot."
"But you're not skilled as a commanding officer," Peyton responds. "I already have experience."
"Skills can be learned," Eva responds, raising her shoulders and keeping her eyes on Roslin. "And I am willing to learn. Besides, I have endured the most. I've been jailed, tortured, almost blown up, all by Rebels. I know what dangers are and I know what they are capable of better than anyone else."
"You know why you got captured by the Rebels in the first place?" Peyton asks, turning to Eva. "It's because you act purely out of emotion."
Suddenly, the atmosphere ignites as Peyton's cold, sharp eyes land on her. Peyton raises her voice and turns her whole body to Eva, no longer maintaining eye contact with Roslin, keeping her completely out of the scene.
"Eva, we all have emotions," says Peyton, "but you fail to control them. That's a big flaw that you don't seem to get the hang of."
But I did! A spark suddenly ignites within her and Eva clenches her fists. "I did! That last time… I learned from that mistake. I did, I truly did."
Peyton scoffs. "Should I remind you of yesterday? I think no one else knows the secret you've been hiding from the squad."
Her heart skips a beat and Eva feels the atmosphere falling silent now that the eyes of the entire squad fall on her. Roslin moves up from her hospital bed, Ashara behind her steps forward with killing curiosity, and Ecklund loosens her arms and comes out of the shadows.
"What?" Roslin leans forward. "Tell me, Peyton."
Ashara hesitates. "Do we-, have to reveal secrets?"
Peyton inhales deeply through her nose and shifts her cold eyes from Eva to Roslin. "Our mission of yesterday, your one-week displeasure, and my bite wound were all because Eva requested it at the board of command. She asked for this mission."
"Without telling us?" Roslin asks. "Without telling me?"
Peyton nods and turns back to Roslin, squeezing her arms behind her back. "Affirmative."
Roslin looks at Eva. "Is that true?"
Eva's cheeks start burning with embarrassment. She feels like the atmosphere is suffocating her, wanting to get out and hide in a corner like a scared Loth-cat. Now that all eyes are on her with displeasure and discontent, Eva exhales deeply with shivering lungs. She nods. "I did. I requested to be part of the hunting party. I asked the Doctor, he agreed, he asked Lieutenant Amitash and he spoke to you."
"Yeah, and I agreed because I thought it was his idea," Roslin snaps. "I thought command wanted us to do it as training. I didn't know it was yours. Why?"
"Because I couldn't let this tailhead go without at least a punch in the jaw," Eva responds. "She left this base in flames, she almost killed me and Peyton. She's a threat to us, the Empire, and Vaulent 6. For them and our training, I thought requesting this mission at the board of command was necessary."
"I-, I get why you wanted that," Roslin stammers. "But you have to understand that sometimes, situations are not ours anymore to handle. Sometimes you have to let things go. And you said nothing to me beforehand! You kept it a secret from all of us! Why didn't you tell any of us? You could've told me and I would've likely agreed. I would've asked command myself if you proposed it to me first, but you didn't! Why?"
Eva almost chokes on her own breath and she feels like she's almost at the point of breaking out into tears with the pressure that's now lying on her shoulders. She can't get an answer out of her throat. It's too shameful to admit to her problems.
Peyton presses her lips. "Why? Because of emotions, angered by the fact that a tailhead bested her in combat," and she scoffs. "An alien."
Eva looks down, no longer able to maintain eye contact with anyone in the room. Now that everyone knows what she tried to hide, Eva fills with shame and regret. She recognises that her emotions took her over for a moment. She should've asked Roslin first, but she didn't. She went right away to the Doctor once her fears were confirmed. She didn't notify anyone. She dragged down the squad because of her own, personal problems. No one asked for it. In a desperate attempt, Eva considers mentioning her visions, but she knows it won't help now. All that matters is that Eva acted on emotion, not on instincts. As soon as she recognises this, her chances of becoming Roslin's right hand crumble away completely.
She remains the empty-handed footsoldier of the squad, the private. Seeing the promotion flying to Peyton aches in her heart, ashamed of her failure. With red, burning cheeks, Eva walks out, leaving the rest behind as Peyton is congratulated for a glorious purpose Eva is no longer in reach for.
At the Doctor's office, it feels like the dust on the floor is staring back at her. Eva's eyes are fixated on the floor as she's deep in her thoughts, still bedazzled about her missed promotion and the confrontation.
The tests Kirbley conducted on her lasted more than an hour, eventually resulting in nothing substantial. No Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, no substance abuse, no traumas… nothing. For Eva it feels relieving to have nothing in her mind malfunctioning, but for Kirbley, it seemingly worries him even more. His forehead ripples as he studies the numbers on his datapad with frowned eyes. Seeing him ponder gives Eva a slight sliver of worry.
"Doctor?" she asks. "Is there something wrong with me?"
Kirbley looks up from his datapad and slowly, he shakes his head. "At the looks of it, no. You seem completely fine."
"That's-, good, right?"
Kirbley slowly shakes his head. "No. It worries me even more. Your testimonial contradicts what I'm getting here. You reported possible hallucinations, or visions, as you call them, without even a lead-up. No PTSD, no substance abuse, no traumas… your medical history and mental state are excellent. Yet, you reported to have experienced something very problematic."
Eva swallows, but she can't force an answer out of herself.
"Where there are Jawas, there's usually scrap. The scrap isn't even here to begin with. No ships, no droids, yet, Jawas swarm the place. Your hallucinations and dreams are just-, there; causeless."
Again, Kirbley looks down at his datapad, pondering, pondering, and pondering until he lies it down on his lap and looks at her. "You are not selling me a fabricated story, aren't you?"
Eva shakes her head. "Why would I?"
"Well, maybe to get a sick leave to cause some uproar in the Capital?" Kirbley asks.
"I have nothing planned," Eva shrugs, nearly monotone.
Kirbley raises his eyebrows with doubt.
"Really. I wouldn't dare lie to my superiors."
He nods and inhales deeply. "When was the last time you experienced hallucinations like the one you reported?"
Eva shrugs. "Like, two days ago, ever since I've been taking medical prescriptions."
"What kind of prescription are you taking?"
"Conergins and aspirin. The Conergin makes me sleep like a brick. Since then, I haven't had anything similar occur to me."
Kirbley nods. He still seems to have no clue or explanation as it falls silent. Eva takes a glass of cold water from a little coffee table. Sipping it, she can feel a hint of alcohol remaining on the edge of the glass. It burns slightly in the back of her throat, relaxing her a little, though she feels almost bad for tasting it. Dad always said it was bad to start drinking, even when he emptied bottle after bottle during the weekends, or when something was to be celebrated. Sorry, dad.
"Eva, tell me more about these visions," says Kirbley. "What did they tell you?"
She puts down her glass. "Before I went here, I had weird dreams at the Academy. Recurring ones. They didn't feel like nightmares, just dreams about a slab of stone someone I knew gifted to me because of my service. The stone got stolen by a Rebel robber. I caught him before he could escape. Since then, I kept having them. I thought this excursion outside the city would do good, but my dreams have only become worse. They became nightmares until I had these flashing images before me in daylight."
Kirbley taps on his datapad and inhales deeply through his nose as he finishes typing her details. "And this Twi'lek is the centerpiece of the story?"
"Yes, Doctor."
"Why?"
That question is still left unanswered, and Eva draws a blank. "I'm not sure. I recognised her weapon when we carried her to the medbay."
Kirbley nods with a hum. He types down her answer on his datapad, but by the looks of his endless stare at the screen afterwards, Kirbley seems to have hit a dead end again. "How's your sister?" he then asks.
"She's doing alright," Eva responds, a little bit caught off guard. "I haven't seen her in almost a week though. I miss her."
He nods. He stands up from his chair and lies his datapad on his desk. "Perhaps a visit will do wonders. Take a gasp of fresh air… Calm your mind… I'm sure it will do good. In the meantime, you stay under my supervision. Report to me at the end of every week from now on. Your squad medic will decide whether you're ready to continue training."
Eva nods silently.
"You might very well be stressed out," he adds, and stops in his tracks, his frozen fingertips touching his clean desk. "Who else isn't during these times…" and he lets out a sigh.
Eva notices the concern and the unease in his shallow voice. She almost doesn't dare to ask as her nerves burn. She leans over her armrest towards him with a pounding heart. "We're still winning the war, right?"
For a moment, the thought of a stalemate races through her mind, the war effort freezing to a screeching halt. It would mean that the Empire no longer has the upper hand and has lost its grip on the war. It's a haunting thought that encircles her mind like crows attracted to the graves. It makes her breath speed up, gasping for air as she stares at Kirbley.
His eyes draw to her and he presses his lips. "I wish that were the case, but the tides are turning. When we look at the horizon, we see no sun announcing tomorrow, but thunderclouds reaping the dead. Rebel operations are becoming more organised, more sophisticated. We've lost the grip on them long ago, and now we're dancing with the consequences of our inaction."
"Inaction?" she asks. "We have done a lot, haven't we? We're fighting them, we're bombing the hell out of 'em, isn't that enough?"
"To make a garden weed-free, we have to prevent them from growing in the first place," Kirbley responds. "Not by cutting off the branches or the leaves, but by pulling its roots out of the soil and killing the seeds. We should have done that with the Rebel Alliance, pinch their breathing space when rebel cells were emerging. We did not do that. We didn't even watch, and now, the Alliance has grown out of our control. Its light has spread everywhere across the galaxy and we struggle to keep it at bay."
Eva gazes away, unable to believe that the Empire is no longer as superior as she once thought it was. She curses under her breath, barely audible.
"But-, I'm here, right? I'm here to become the best soldier of the Empire, am I not?" she asks.
Kirbley smiles. "I admire your optimism about the future, Eva."
"Well, maybe you should learn from me," Eva responds, carefully choosing her words. "Even if people think we're losing, we won't just give up."
Eva clenches her fists with frustration. She can't yet believe the path to victory is slipping through their fingers. Even if it did, the Empire wouldn't surrender so easily without putting up a fight to make victory happen. The Empire has power. The Rebels have nothing that comes close. Hope? Nah. That can't save them.
"Perhaps," Kirbley responds, and he walks towards her. "I'm a Doctor. What do I know about strategy? Anyway, I'll call up a transport for you. Forget what I said about the war effort, it's trivial, and as long as you do your part, it will remain that. Dismissed."
Kirbley's voice almost sounds like he didn't like it when Eva shoved off the stalling war effort. But what stayed more was what she said afterwards. Forget about how you told me we're losing? Okay…
Why would you say that? Because I have to find out on my own? Draw my own conclusions?
Perhaps it all doesn't matter to her except for the higher-ups, the strategists, the directors, and the fleet commanders. All she needs to know is how to kill a Rebel. She doesn't need more.
Eline tightens the string of her makeshift bow. Aiming for the cross on the metal sheet 15 meters away from her, she releases the bolt of plasma and hits the edge. Eline lets out a light cough and looks back at Eva and she smiles.
"Not bad," Eva remarks, leaning against a tree. The woods around her feel like its alive; the green leaves rustle a little above her and the scent of pine fills the air.
Eline hums, but her voice seems strained. "I've been training all week just to become as good as you."
Eva chuckles. "Well, you're doing great at getting there."
Eline nods. "But… it's hard to aim. Harder than I thought," and she tightens the string again. "Especially-," she coughs, "especially when my lungs act up."
Eva's smile falters. "Acting up?"
Eline fires away, hits the upper edge of the cross, and glances at Eva with a hint of pain shimmering in her young eyes.
"Have you taken your meds today?" Eva asks, concern flickering in her eyes.
Eline shakes her head, pressing her lips. "I-, I ran out-, this morning." She coughs again and rubs her hand over her chest. "I was going to tell you, but…"
"But?"
"I thought you were busy." Eline glances away, avoiding Eva's eyes and focusing on her bow instead.
Eva sighs, walking towards her. "You can't skip them. What happens if you go without it?"
Eline's eyes cast downward. With her foot, she draws lines in the soil, displacing the dirt. "I won't breathe," she whispers. "Death."
Eva rubs her hand on Eline's cheek and moves her head up, forcing her sister to look at her. "So… if you're out of it, tell me, okay?" Eva asks
Eline swallows and nods. "I will. But… they said a new package is coming in tomorrow. I figured I could wait. I'll be fine without it for a day. It just gets harder to breathe sometimes, but I can handle it."
Eva remains silent, uncertain of how to answer. Sure, Elibe might be very resilient. She survived a B-Wing crash and a 6-months-long coma, but should she really take this small but dangerous risk? To let her lungs lock down and collapse?
However, Eline seems sure of herself snd the package that is arriving tomorrow, and Eva nods.
"Alright. Let me help you," says Eva. She inspects her stance; the position of her feet, and her arm emplacements. With her boots, Eva pushes Eline's foot forward a little, moves her arm closer to her shoulder and up a little.
She remembers her first blaster training when she missed every shot at her first try, until Roslin, slightly condescending at the time, had shown her what she did wrong. It was the recoil she handled poorly.
"Try now."
Eline releases her hand and the plasma bolt hurdles towards the target and hits it. The outer, fifth ring.
Eline raises her cybernetic hand, celebrating her shot silently. She looks back at her.
"Great shot," Eva smiles. "Practice more and you'll hit bull's eye."
Eline nods. She tightens the string again, ready to fire again, but she hesitates and lowers her bow. Eline turns around. "I want to show you something."
As Eline holds onto her bow in her right hand, she reaches out for her pocket with the other and takes out something hidden in her hand. "I made something for you."
She opens her hands and Eva sees it's a bracelet.
"For me?" Eva asks, bewildered.
Eline nods and puts the bracelet on her hand. Eva moves it closer to her eyes and sees it is made of wooden beads with the letters of her sister's name. Eva chuckles as her cheeks warm up.
"I'm flattered," Eva smiles and she slides her wrist through it. Its small beads roll over her skin until all letters face up.
Eline lifts up her cybernetic with her own bracelet on her wrist, with the name of Eva imprinted on its little beads, and holds her arm next to Eva's. "I also have one. This way, we're always together. Anywhere."
Eva smiles. "Anytime."
"Reach out. Reach out."
Whispering, the Twi'lek, Kishtung Sorren, sits crouched on the soil. Deep in the woods, the owls worship the night as she inhales calmly and deeply. Kishtung empties her mind with each exhale and everything feels like it's slowing down until the only time that passes is her heart, pounding with serenity.
They've led her to a temporary encampment, far from where she stumbled into the world. Camps stand between the thick trees. Rebel mechanics tend to their cheap speeders and some tanks they managed to get their hands on.
"Reach out," she repeats.
Soon, they should answer her through the Force. However, Kishtung recognises circumstances might not be the same as when she stepped into the carbonite chamber. If the galaxy has remained the same ever since, it should not be a problem to reach out to the Force, however.
As soon as they answer, Kishtung knows Coruscant is secure. She'll have to get there as quickly as possible and inform them about her mission.
There, over her arms, Kishtung feels a warm sensation like warm air blowing gently over her skin. The Force is in reach to grasp and let it flow through her. She can feel its song playing out at a constant, reassuring rhythm, but to her confusion, it is not singing in harmony. Its notes are off, twisted into despair. Did something bring the Force off balance? It's the first thought that echoes through her empty mind. Kishtung tries to silence it but to no avail. The song of the Force is too off-balance to keep it quiet.
Then, Kishtung feels a punch in the guts. Her lungs shudder and gasp for air as her eyes open with unprecedented shock. She feels the frigid darkness creeping over her skin, making her shiver. The owls of the night go silent as Kishtung hears muffled footsteps growing louder behind her. It's the commanding officer of the Rebel Starbird Group, Girkin Vaskyr. She can feel him through the Force as one of the few harmonising strings in a disjointed melody. She tries to form words, but her mind stutters with shock.
"The Darkside," Kishtung stammers, "it's everywhere."
She turns her head around to Girkin. The man stands a couple of meters away from her, almost nonchalantly with his hands behind his back.
Tears start forming in her eyes as she hastily gasps for air. "What happened? The Darkside is everywhere, spread like a plague."
He presses his lips, growing uncomfortable as he steps towards her.
"My lady, we have a lot of catching up to do," he says, "but it would take me hours, days, and weeks to get you up to date on the current state of the galaxy. The enemy would have spotted us by then. What matters the most is that the galaxy is in a state beyond despair. The Republic you once knew has been deformed into the Empire that now rules the everyday people with fear and terror. It's hungry for power and won't stop infecting until it has everything in its might. Freedom is no longer the rule, it's become the exception."
Kishtung swallows. "And the Jedi Order?"
Girkin's eyes drift away with unease, trying to find the right words to ease the pain. "The Jedi Order is no more, I'm afraid."
Kishtung's heart sinks in her chest. "The Jedi Order, gone? How could that happen?"
From behind his back, Girkin unveils a golden, soft-glowing Holocron. Its edges have withered away, removing some of its shine. "I think this will inform you much better than I can."
He extends his arm and puts it in Kishtung's trembling hands. He leads her to the biggest tent, seemingly the base of operations since a holotable dominates most of its space. He ushers the remaining officers out of the tent until all who remains is her and only her.
With shock still shivering her, Kishtung drops herself slowly to the floor. She puts the Holocron on the floor at arm's reach and closes her eyes. Grasping the Force, she unlocks it.
It starts humming and through the Force, she feels it rising from the floor. Its sharp edges twist and unfold, until a blue haze is projected. For a moment, Kishtung feels the harmony flowing out of the Holocron, but it's tainted with dark edges.
An unfamiliar voice speaks with volumes that is able to adjust orbits of planets and calm solar storms.
"This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place."
Kishtung opens her eyes with bliss.
"This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi: trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain. Avoid Coruscant. Avoid detection. Be secret, but be strong. We will each be challenged: our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere and, in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you. Always."
May the Force be with you. Always.
The Holocron shuts off. The man projected by the floating cube vanishes and the Holocron hovers down on the floor. Its edges fold back into its original form, leaving Kishtung in silence, contrasted by the questions in her mind. With her heart pounding in her chest, Kishtung slowly stands up. The Jedi Order. Fallen. The Republic. Gone. Its replacement? The Empire, drawing its long, dark shadows over the galaxy.
What concerns her the most, however, is that Master Kenobi instructs her not to return to the Temple. The mission that nearly left her dead in a carbonite chamber cannot be delayed since it was of great importance. Its details have to be reported to Coruscant, but now, a Jedi Master is instructing her not to go. She has to go against what she was ordered to do. Conflicted, Kishtung no longer knows what to do now.
With the Holocron enclaved in her hand, she steps out of the tent, still bedazzled by everything. Girkin notices her and walks towards her.
"It can't be true," she barely whispers. "It can't be."
"Search your feelings, mistress," Girkin replies. "You know it's true."
Kishtung closes her eyes. She lets everything go and reaches out until the Force punches back at her with the Darkside fueling its flames. With a tear rolling over her cheek, she opens her eyes. Slowly, she nods and wipes away her tears.
She didn't want to believe it at first, but the Jedi Order is truly gone.
"I can't believe the Order is truly gone," she whispers. "They assigned me a mission of great importance, and now that I have completed it, they're no longer there to see me returning."
Girkin nods. "What is the mission you were assigned?"
Kishtung sweeps her cotton bag from her back in a swift movement and rummages through her belongings. They should be in there. Must be. She ensured it. But to her horror, she notices she's missing something.
"No," she gasps. "I lost it. No."
Girkin moves towards her. "What did you lose exactly?"
"It has no name as far as I know, except for the Artefact," Kishtung responds. "We have to get it back."
The images of the girl Kishtung encountered, Eva, flash through her mind. She must have taken it out of her bag when she searched her belongings in the Medbay.
"I know who got it in their possession. A girl has it, and I know how to get it back."
