Chapter 11 - Partisans

The sharp clink of metal echoed through the Beast's cargo hold as the cuffs fell from Edric's wrists. He rubbed at the red marks left behind, avoiding Edwin's gaze. His mind raced, but he couldn't find a place to start. The calm his brother had briefly offered through the Force was already wearing off, and a familiar tightness crept back into his chest. Despite the ship's cool air, sweat prickled his skin. Brother... The word still sounded foreign, like it didn't quite belong to him yet. And not the way it did in the Jedi Order either. He repeated it in his head, hoping it would start to make sense.

Meanwhile, Edwin moved to unshackle Max, who surprisingly didn't reach for his blaster in the instant his hands were free. Edric couldn't deny that, on some level, he almost wished he had.

"You really didn't have to tie us up," Max grumbled, massaging his own wrists in a similar fashion as Edric had done. "Especially on my ship."

Edwin straightened, meeting Max's glare without a flinch.

"It was a precaution. I didn't know how either of you would react."

"Well, next time, just ask, you kriffing asshole. It'll save us all the trouble," Max said.

"That's enough, Max," Edric cut in as he stood, rolling his shoulders until they popped. He rubbed his eyes, trying to buy a moment to think, but his thoughts felt like fireflies in the dark—flickering in and out, impossible to catch.

"We need a second," he finally said, gesturing to Max. "Let's talk in the cockpit."

He noticed Edwin giving a dubious look, but he shrugged and nodded to the two men.

"Make yourself at home," Max added with a wink as he followed Edric out. "And keep an eye on Gruss, will ya?"

Edric and Max left the area toward the cockpit, walking through the narrow hallway from the central room that acted as cargo hold, a galley and common area where Edric could also practice his lightsaber and other martial skills. The door slid shut behind them, sealing them off from Edwin. Max slumped into his seat, arms crossed, his grumpy demeanor not fading. Compared to how cheerful he was before they went after the slaver Gruss, he seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the galaxy.

"So? What's your play, kid? How do you want to handle this?" Max asked, his tone a bit softer than his expression.

Edric took a deep breath before dropping into the co-pilot's chair, leaning back until he was staring at the ceiling, its array of buttons and switches looking back at him.

"I have no idea," he finally admitted. "I don't know, Max. This... is a lot. I didn't even know I had a brother, let alone this whole holocron situation on top of it."

Max raised an eyebrow. "But you've been having those dreams, haven't you?" He spread his arms as if to say, Come on, the signs were there. The Force was silent now, but Edric could still feel the undeniable connection with Edwin. It was more than just their physical resemblance.

"He's obviously your brother, right? I mean, you're both built like two walls and he also knows your Force wizard stuff. Which was kriffing scary, by the way."

"I guess," Edric shrugged, still unsure.

The bounty hunter could read him just as easily as his former master did, and as Edric expected, Max leaned forward, his voice firm but steady.

"Look, kid. If your dad's in trouble and this holocron is as dangerous as Edwin says, you're already in it. Like it or not, this thing's got your name on it."

Edric ran a hand through his hair, frustration seeping into his voice. "Yeah, I get that. But I don't even know if I can trust Edwin yet. And I have no idea where to start."

Max snorted. "Trust? Kid, we're bounty hunters. Trust is a luxury we can't ever afford. Right now, we focus on what we can control— let's track down your old man, and deal with the rest as it comes. Not to mention I know you too well. You would never just send your bro away, am I right?"

A small smile tugged at Edric's lips. "I guess you're right. Let's help him. At least for now."

"Good. Now let's get back before your brother tries to tie us up again," Max stood up with a grin.

They returned to the common room where Edwin paced restlessly. Edric did his best to avoid eye contact with his brother, while he watched Max strolling in with his usual swagger, raising his chin slightly and crossing his arms. Edric could tell Max was itching to throw a few more jabs at their new "friend", but he also knew this was the bounty hunter's way of sizing someone up.

"We'll help," Edric said, his voice firmer than he expected. He pointed toward Gruss, still unconscious and slumped against the wall. "But first, let's get him into the brig. Then we can figure out how to find our father."

Father… was even stranger than brother. He wondered what kind of man he was, and attempted to recall the other faces he saw in his visions, but nothing came up besides blurred and incomprehensible images. It was as if the Force had decided to withhold any more answers, teasing him with glimpses but never the full picture. He hated feeling like a leaf tossed in the wind, driven by fate in directions he couldn't control. The irony wasn't lost on him. He knew well how the Jedi surrendered to the Will of the Force, listening, accepting its guidance, never attempting to bend it to their will. Ever since he left the Order, Edric had believed he was doing the right thing—helping people in his own way, navigating the galaxy's darker corners with an old bounty hunter-turned-spy as his mentor. It certainly wasn't a noble path, but it produced results, something more tangible than the philosophy he had once clung to.

And yet, here he was again, bowing to the whims of the Force. Less like choosing a path and more like being pushed onto one he never saw coming. Except, you did. Just ignored it, he mused.

He saw Edwin nodding to his words, a flicker of relief passing over his face, though he quickly masked it.

"Thank you."

Once the Devaronian was secured in the brig, they continued their discussion around the dining table.

"I got a message from dad a while back," Edwin said, pulling a battered datapad from his satchel. "But it's encrypted. The encryption module was lost while I was dodging some Imperial goons, and I haven't been able to crack it. None of my contacts have the right tools or the know-how to break through either."

Max leaned back with a glint in his eye. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to know someone who might be able to help. He's not cheap, and definitely not the most trustworthy guy, but when it comes to slicing, he's top-notch," he suggested.

Edric glanced at the bounty hunter curiously. Max always seemed to have an ace up his sleeve out of nowhere.

"Who?"

"Rono. A Duros slicer I've worked with. Back when I was with Republic Intelligence. He's probably the only old colleague I still keep in touch with."

"Let me guess. 'Keeping in touch' means gambling away your credits and getting pissed drunk?" Edric asked, chuckling. Max let the comment fly past him.

"I'll send him a message."

With that, Max strode off to the cockpit, leaving the two brothers alone for the first time. Edwin sat across from Edric, watching him intently, almost as if he was trying to read his thoughts. The moment of silence became awkward, and Edric suddenly got very aware of the hum of the ship's engines.

"So," Edwin said, his tone lighter now. "What do you want to know?"

Edric hesitated. Where should I even start, he asked himself, scratching his temples. He knew nothing. Not even Edwin's age. Edric himself turned eighteen not long ago, even though he already looked older for years now.

"For starters," Edric said, leaning forward slightly, "how old are you?"

Edwin chuckled, the tension between them easing just a little. "I'm eight years older than you, little brother. Makes me... what? Twenty-six now."

Edric had a flash of surprise. "Eight years? That's a big gap."

Edwin's face hardened. "Yeah. Growing up wasn't easy. Our father... well, let's just say he wasn't the most lenient. He had me training like a soldier from the moment I could walk. Discipline, secrecy, responsibility—that's all I knew."

Edric could see Edwin's gaze drift, as if reliving those early years filled with hardship instead of a childhood full of play.

"That sounds rough," Edric added quietly. Edwin shrugged.

"It is what it is. Father was obsessed with protecting the holocron and making sure our legacy continued, so he had to make sure I was ready. But... it wasn't all bad. Sometimes, though, I wish things had been different."

A silence settled between them again. An unspoken understanding of a past lived not the way they had hoped. Edric found himself wondering what it would've been like to grow up with them, but that notion felt distant.

"I guess we're not so different after all," Edric murmured. "The Jedi trained me from the time I was a kid, too. I grew up fighting in the Clone Wars, following orders, never questioning anything. I wasn't much of a peacekeeper—more like a child soldier."

"Sounds like something Father would be proud of."

"Maybe. But I doubt he'd be happy about me leaving the Order."

Edwin's eyes softened, like he was about to say something, but before the conversation could continue, Max's footsteps echoed through the corridor. He didn't bother waiting to arrive before speaking.

"Alright, I sent the message," Max called as he entered. "It'll be a bit before we get a response. In the meantime, I say we drop Gruss off. Hopefully we'll hear back while we're on our way."

Edric stood, giving Edwin a quick bow with his chin. "Sounds like a plan."

They received a reply not long after dropping off Gruss and collecting their payment. Normally, Edric would have been half-listening to Max's usual ramblings about what he planned to spend his share on—Twi'lek dancers, a night of "fun" with one, followed by getting drunk and suffering through a brutal hangover the next day with nothing productive to do. In the past, Edric had resisted joining in on those indulgences, sticking to the restraint drilled into him by the Jedi Order. But ever since turning eighteen, he found himself caring less. The Jedi were gone, after all, and with them, the rigid rules that once governed his life. No one was left to judge him, except he still had some breaks in him he couldn't quite release.

"So, where are we headed?" Edwin asked as the three of them settled into the cockpit. Edric began the pre-flight checks, while Max punched in the coordinates.

Max shot Edwin a sidelong glance. "Sorry, that's on a need-to-know basis. All I can say is... it's a space station."

"Aha…" Edwin responded, unimpressed.

Max rolled his eyes. "You'll see soon enough. For star's sake, have a little patience."

A few hours later, their ship tore free from hyperspace, only to be swallowed by a hive of drifting asteroids. The Beast lurched violently, like a sailing ship caught in a storm, alarms wailing as a space rock slammed into the hull with a bone-rattling thud. The impact rippled through the vehicle, tossing Edric in his seat as if the universe itself had decided to play a cruel game of dejarik with them. The boy barely registered what was happening.

"Karabast!" Max swore, gripping the controls as he struggled to maneuver them through the field. "Didn't think I'd be dodging boulders today."

Edric quickly adjusted his harness, bracing himself. "You could've mentioned the asteroid field, Max!"

The bounty hunter grunted on his left, pulling the ship into a sharp turn to avoid another chunk of debris. "It's not on the map, kid! Hold on, this'll get rough."

The Beast, a heavy freighter, wasn't built for agility, and in the middle of the asteroid field, maneuvering her was like trying to steer a bantha through quicksand. Max was a solid pilot, but in a situation like this, skill alone wouldn't be enough. They needed foresight, and for that, they needed the Force.

"Give me the controls," Edric shouted over the blaring alarms. There wasn't time to argue.

Max glanced at him, their eyes locking in brief understanding. Without a word, Max hit a switch, and Edric's yoke came to life. He gripped it tightly, the engines and thrusters pulsing through his fingertips, the Beast responding like a restless animal ready to bolt.

Edric inhaled deeply, pushing aside the whirlwind of thoughts—his past, his family, the weight of his legacy. With a practiced calm, he reached out to the Force. Instantly, the chaos around him slowed, like the universe itself was taking a breath with him. He could almost see the orbits of the asteroids, their paths clear in his mind, and in that moment, he wasn't just reacting—he was anticipating. Each movement became a calculated step in a dangerous dance, every rock an obstacle he could see before it even moved. He was sailing through the field of rocks like it was one of the acrobatics practices back in the Jedi Temple, and soon, space opened up again.

"That's where we are going," Max said, pointing toward a massive asteroid that could have easily been mistaken for a moon. They had cleared the worst of the asteroid field, and Edric allowed himself to exhale, wiping the sweat from his temples with the back of his hand as the ship leveled out.

"Nice flying, kid," Max commented, reaching over to give Edric's shoulder a pat before taking back the controls. As they approached the looming celestial body, Edric's eyes were drawn to the structure that appeared on the horizon.

An ancient building jutted out from the cratered surface, its massive dome gleaming under the pale starlight. It looked like a relic, cold and metallic, an open wound on the barren landscape. The dome, once imposing, was now pockmarked and scarred from years of neglect and exposure.

Surrounding the central dome, a cluster of squat, angular buildings huddled together like ancient sentinels. Thick, serpentine cables and pipes slithered between them, burrowing into the jagged terrain as if the planet itself fed the complex its lifeblood. Beside the main dome, a half-collapsed spire rose, skeletal and ominous, its sharp lines clawing at the starry sky. The shadows it cast stretched long and jagged across the rocky ground.

As they drew closer, something on the dome caught Edric's eye—a faint, weathered symbol barely visible beneath layers of grime and age. He squinted, leaning forward instinctively, and his breath caught in his throat. It was unmistakable, though faded almost beyond recognition: the Jedi Order's insignia.

He had read once, in the Archives, that the Jedi had established countless stations, outposts, and sanctuaries centuries ago. Many of them were lost to time, their purposes forgotten. This must have been one of them, long before the Clone Wars or the rise of the Empire. And somehow even operational.

Still, seeing that symbol here stirred something in him. It was as if his whole past was trying to catch up to him.

The ship touched down in the hangar with a gentle thud, snapping him out of his line of thinking. The three of them disembarked, descending the ramp of the Beast. Waiting for them was a Duros and four others of various species, all with blasters trained on the newcomers. Edric kept his movements slow and deliberate, mindful not to give their trigger-happy greeting party any reason to react.

"Max Daxer!" the Duros yelled, not too far off, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and insult. He spread his arms wide, as though welcoming an old friend. "Long time, no see, you Hutt-spawn!"

"Rono kriffing Bone! It's been too long, you big headed alien," Max shouted back, mimicking the same grand gesture. As they approached, the two shook hands, holding on just a bit too long for Edric's liking.

Meanwhile, the four guards kept their blasters pointed at them. Edric could tell from their awkward grips and uncertain eyes that they were new to the job. Fresh hires, most likely, not used to holding a weapon in a standoff. That made them unpredictable. Where the hell did Max bring us? As if Max heard Edric, he looked at the guards.

"What's with the greens?" the bounty hunter asked.

"Can't be too careful these days," Rono replied, his Duros features unreadable. He signaled to the guards to lower their weapons then saw Edric and Edwin. "And what's with the muscle?"

Max snorted. "They're harmless. Edric and Edwin Kane. They need your slicing skills to find their father."

Rono raised a brow, or at least what Edric assumed was the Duros version of it.

"That Edric, huh?" he said, studying him with more interest than Edric would have preferred. The fact that Rono knew about him made his skin prickle. The former Padawan trusted Max now, but hearing the bounty hunter telling stories about him was flashing danger signs in his mind.

"Yeah, that Edric," Max confirmed, his patience starting to fray. "But can we maybe do this somewhere that doesn't involve blasters pointed at us?"

Rono clasped his hands together with a sharp clap. "Fair point. Follow me."

Rono led them through a series of dimly lit corridors, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the metallic walls. The station had an eerie, abandoned aura, though signs of life—scattered tools, half-finished repairs—showed it was still very much in use. Edric couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, and the symbol he'd seen earlier lingering in the back of his head. He broke the silence as they walked.

"I noticed the Jedi insignia on the dome. This station—what is it, exactly?"

Rono glanced over his shoulder, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You don't miss much, do you?" He led them around a corner before continuing. "This place used to be a Jedi station, you are right about that. An observatory. Or at least, that's what we think. We found it by chance. Some locals tipped us off. It's in the middle of nowhere, so it's perfect for our operations."

"Operations?" Edric pressed, glancing at Edwin, who remained mute but clearly interested.

Rono stopped in front of a reinforced door, placing his hand on the panel to unlock it. "We're part of a group called Partisans," he explained, stepping into what looked like a cross between an office and a high-tech lab. Wires ran across the floor, data screens flickered on walls, and parts of droids and datapads were scattered on tables. "We're just one cell of many. Our leader, Saw Gerrera, has been coordinating attacks against Imperial targets. This station is my squad's HQ to regroup, plan, and occasionally hit back at those Imperial bastards."

Edric took a second to process that. They have heard some terrorist attacks on the Holonet in some systems, but even those news were more like rumors. The Empire was careful about what people knew and fed only the glorious propaganda.

"So you just stumbled on an old Jedi observatory and decided to move in?" Edric asked, his eyes wandering over the cluttered lab.

"More or less," Rono replied, already busy setting up his equipment to start slicing. "We didn't even know what it was at first. We just knew it was off the grid and hidden in plain sight. Saw figured it would be a good place to operate from, and so far, he's been right."

Max crossed his arms, leaning against the wall.

"Saw Gerrera, huh? You've come a long way since your Republic Intelligence days. Back then, you barely wanted to leave your lab."

Rono shrugged, powering up a console with a flick of his wrist.

"Times change, old friend. Sitting behind a desk won't stop the Empire."

Sliding into his chair, the Duros cracked his knuckles and gestured for the datapad. Edric noticed a flicker of hesitation in Edwin, but his brother eventually handed the device over. Rono connected it to a tangle of cables and screens, which blinked to life with lines of code streaming down.

"This might take a while," Rono muttered, eyes locked on the data flashing before him.

Just then, the door slid open with a quiet hiss. Edric turned, and his mouth dropped to the floor. Standing in the doorway was someone he had long believed he would never see again.

"Edric? Is that really you?"

It was Lyra—the girl he'd helped back on Tarnos. Her eyes widened as if she were staring at a ghost. Edric felt his heart jolt in his chest, his brain struggling to catch up.

"I thought you were dead!" Lyra gasped, her voice shaking with disbelief as she rushed toward him. Before Edric could react, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

Just like that day on Tarnos, Edric froze, unsure of how to respond. The warmth of her presence, the familiarity—it all overwhelmed him. All he could manage was a soft, stunned, "Lyra…"

Edric's cheeks and ears burned and his stomach became restless. After a few seconds stretched to eternity, Lyra pulled back, and both of them became acutely aware of the eyes on them.

"You two know each other?" Rono asked.

"Small galaxy," Max quipped through a smirk, though Edric caught the mischievous glint in his eye.

"Yes, Edric's the Jedi I told you about," Lyra said to Rono, though her gaze remained fixed on Edric. Her dark green eyes locked onto his, as if she were searching for something deep inside him. The room around them faded, and Edric got lost in her eyes, transported back to that cave on Tarnos when she hugged him and he had to let go of those emotions. He didn't want to hold back anymore.

Max, sensing the tension, finally stepped in and put a hand on Edwin's massive shoulder. "Alright, big brother, let's find some food and let these two catch up. Rono, ping us once you've cracked that datapad." He nudged away a confused Edwin, and they both headed for the door.

"Here, let me show you around," Lyra said softly, her voice pulling Edric from his daze. She nodded toward the door, gesturing for him to follow.

They left the cluttered lab, walking side by side through the corridors of the ancient station. The place was like an ancient sentinel, the remnants of the Jedi Order long since abandoned, and yet there was a strange comfort in the faded symbols and cracked walls. Edric could sense the past all around them, but for now, he was focused entirely on Lyra.

They walked in silence for a few steps, the tension between them palpable. Edric's heart pounded in his chest as he searched for the right words. So much had changed since Tarnos, and yet, walking beside her now, it was as if no time had passed at all. Lyra finally spoke, her voice quiet but steady.

"I can't believe you're still alive. After hearing about Order 66, I assumed… well, you know." She stopped short, as if saying it aloud would make it too real. Her gaze drifted out the viewscreen, taking in the desolate landscape of the asteroid beyond.

"What happened to you?" she asked quietly.

Edric exhaled, trying to pull his memories together.

"It's a long story," he said, his voice tinged with weariness.

"And we've got time," she replied with a teasing grin, giving him a light punch on his arm.

A shiver ran through Edric on Lyra's touch, and he managed a faint smile before continuing. "My master was seriously injured on Tarnos. No one knew if he'd ever wake up. After what I saw there—what you made me realize—it became clear just how far the Order had drifted from its true purpose. Or at least, from the purpose I imagined it had." He paused, his eyes meeting hers. "Your message… It's what made me come to terms with it all. So, I left."

Lyra's eyes widened. "You left the Jedi?"

"I did. I went into the Coruscant Underworld. It was... rough. I don't really want to talk about that time. But I tried to help people, in my own way. Tried to be the Jedi I thought I could be, you know? The ideal I had in my head. But it wasn't enough. The galaxy's too broken."

Lyra's expression softened, her eyes filled with empathy. "Yeah, the galaxy was already broken before we were even born," she scoffed. "But that doesn't mean you can't carve out your own place. It is what we make it, remember?"

Edric offered a small, almost bitter curve of his lips. "Maybe. Then Max found me. Pulled me out of Coruscant when Order 66 came around and gave me a way to survive. We've been bounty hunting ever since. And now, out of nowhere... I've got a brother and a family legacy I didn't even know existed."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "A brother?"

They wandered into a small open area at the edge of the dome where a few worn benches overlooked the barren craters outside. Lyra sat down on one and patted the spot beside her, inviting Edric to join. The bench creaked under his weight, earning a soft chuckle from her.

"Yeah. Edwin, the other guy back there. My family has been protecting some holocron that the Empire wants. Our father's missing, and we're trying to track him down."

Dim sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a golden glow across one side of Lyra's face. Edric was caught off guard, mesmerized by the way the light danced on her features, highlighting a beauty that felt almost unreal in such a desolate place.

Lyra shook her head slightly, a mix of disbelief and concern flickering across her face. "You've always had a knack for getting yourself tangled in impossible situations."

"Yeah, seems to be my specialty," Edric replied, managing a half-smile. "What about you? How'd you end up with these Partisans?"

At his question, Lyra's expression darkened, and Edric immediately regretted asking. She turned her gaze away, eyes distant, as if the memory itself was too painful to confront.

"We moved to Hosnian Prime," she began quietly. "Dad and I opened a small shop in one of the markets—just basic goods, nothing special. For a while, we were finally going to be alright. Then the Empire came. Dad spoke up against some Imperials bullying a Sullustan. They took him to some prison camp, who knows where. I've been trying to track him down ever since."

Edric could see the weight of her words, the way her shoulders tensed as she spoke. She had buried these emotions deep, but now they were spilling out.

"Rono found me trying to slice into an Imperial comm array on Hosnian Prime," she continued, her voice low. "He saw the potential in me and he heard about Tarnos. He said joining the Partisans was the best way to get the resources I might need to find my father. For a while, I thought I could handle it on my own. But every lead hit a dead end. It's like chasing shadows, Edric. Sometimes I wonder if he's even still alive..."

"Lyra, I'm sorry," Edric murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear. Every fiber of his being wanted to reach out, to offer her comfort, to pull her into a reassuring hug. But he resisted. The teachings of the Jedi still clung to him, even now—the warnings about attachment, about letting emotions cloud judgment. He already had issues with his anger lately. He couldn't understand why his body seemed to act on its own, why it was urging him to do something he knew, deep down, he couldn't allow himself to do.

His hand twitched slightly, as if wanting to move toward her, but he forced it to stay still, resting awkwardly in his lap. He had been trained to suppress these feelings, to let go. Yet, in moments like this, the struggle felt like a battle between two halves of himself—one that sought a profound connection, and one that knew better. There is no emotion, there is peace, he remembered the mantra. And yet, barely visibly he shook his head. No. I'm not a Jedi. I said it myself.

Without another thought, Edric leaned toward her and wrapped his arms around Lyra, pulling her into a tight hug. He had hugged her once before, back in the cave on Tarnos, but this time it felt different. This time, it felt like he was holding on to the only good thing left in a galaxy full of darkness. She stiffened, clearly surprised, but then she melted into the embrace, resting her head against his chest. He could feel the tension leave her body, and for once, he allowed himself to forget the teachings that had kept him distant for so long. For a brief minute, nothing else mattered but the warmth between them.