Chapter 16 - Homebound

Edric scanned the system readings, relieved to see all systems in the green. At least they wouldn't spontaneously explode today. The Beast had its share of scars—worn panels, temperamental drives, but after spending so much time aboard, living in its quarters with Max, the ship had become more than just a vessel. As a Padawan, he'd had a few small trinkets back in his Jedi quarters, mementos from his missions, which felt more like some echoes of a past he would no longer visit. But the Beast? This ship had grown into something more. It felt like home. A piece of their dysfunctional little family, whatever that meant.

"So," Max said, snapping Edric out of his thoughts. "Where to now?" It was the obvious question, and yet the entire crew turned toward Edwin, waiting for his answer. Edwin stood by, arms crossed, his face distant, already working two steps ahead most likely. Edric wished his brother would be more forthcoming instead of always keeping things to himself. Edwin's eyes finally focused, and he stepped forward to the console, keying in a set of coordinates.

"Dantooine," Edwin said, his voice calm but firm. "Dad told us to go home. So, that's where we're headed. Here."

Edric blinked, the name stirring a vague memory from his lessons at the Temple, but it wasn't the planet itself that surprised him, it was the way Edwin said home. He shifted in his seat, curiosity piqued.

"You mean... we're from Dantooine?" he asked, unable to keep the question in. There were another dozen in the back of his mind, but this seemed like a good start.

Edwin turned his head to his little brother, then nodded. "Kind of. Not originally, but it's where I grew up. It's the place Father made into our home."

Another concept Edric could tell he had a different understanding of than his brother. Yet, the Jedi Temple, the Beast were both his homes at stages of his life. In a way, maybe even The Rusty Blaster too, before he had to flee Coruscant. It didn't seem far-fetched that Dantooine could be one. Maybe someday after all of this mess. As Edwin keyed in the last of the coordinates, Edric heard the familiar hum of the ship's engines spooling up.

Max, sarcastic as ever, turned to Sid with a raised eyebrow. "Well, let's hope you really are a miracle worker. I'd hate to see us all stranded halfway to nowhere." He paused for a second before curving his lips upward. "Or you know… blown to pieces."

Sid flashed a confident grin from his seat in response. "Relax. I even improved the drives a bit, they could use some upgrades."

Max chuckled, though there was a hint of unease in his voice. "For all our sakes, I hope you're right."

With that, Max engaged the hyperdrive. The Beast shrieked, the metal groaning as if it were protesting the sudden surge of power. Edric braced himself as the stars in front of them stretched into long, bright lines, then blurred into the familiar swirl of blue hyperspace. A flash of blinding white light filled the cockpit, and just like that, they were traveling between worlds again.

Edric stared out into the vortex, letting the hum of the ship fill the silence. Dantooine, he thought. A place he had never known, but somehow it felt like the journey ahead would unlock more than just a destination. It felt like the beginning of something, an unraveling of the past he had never been part of.

"Alright, we've got plenty of time for some shut-eye. See you kids later," Max said with a long stretch, his spine popping audibly as he rose from his chair. The bounty hunter yawned, scratching the back of his neck as he strolled out of the cockpit toward his bunk. Edwin followed suit, as did Sid and Lyra, all of them scattering to find their own distractions or much-needed rest.

Edric stayed behind, alone with the soothing noise of the ship's systems and the occasional soft beeps of the control panel. For a while longer, he allowed himself to be mesmerized by the swirling blue and white lights of hyperspace outside the viewport, the colors blending into one another like a hypnotic dance. His eyes grew heavier, the pull of sleep creeping in, but he resisted. He knew what awaited him in the darkness—visions, nightmares, flashes of the past. Images of Kael's twisted face, the loss of his father, the holocron—all waiting to resurface the moment he closed his eyes.

He wasn't ready to face those things, not yet.

Edric needed something to occupy his mind, something to push him into auto-pilot, where thoughts couldn't wander into places he wasn't prepared to visit. Sparring had always been a good outlet, but after the brief duel with Edwin, his muscles still ached, and the last thing he wanted was to wake up the others. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease.

Then, his stomach growled—loudly, cutting through the silence like a droid malfunction alarm. Edric blinked in surprise as the sound echoed in the quiet cockpit, even overpowering the beeps of the ship's systems.

He was starving.

With a weary smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he pushed himself up from the chair and headed toward the galley. If he couldn't quiet his mind, maybe he could at least quiet his stomach.

As Edric approached the galley, he was surprised to find Lyra sitting at the dining table, hunched over a couple of datapads. She hadn't noticed him at first, but despite his attempt to walk quietly, the Beast's metal floor betrayed him with every step. Lyra looked up from her work, her eyes tired but warm.

"Hey," she greeted him, her voice soft and welcoming.

"Hi," Edric replied, a little too quickly. He stood there for a moment, hovering awkwardly, his mind scrambling for something to say. Why couldn't he act normal around her? His mouth went dry, and he realized he was just... staring.

"I—uh—I was going to make something to eat," he blurted, pointing toward the small kitchenette behind the table. "Are you, um... hungry?"

Lyra's exhausted smile widened, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes as if she could sense his awkwardness. "You read my mind. I'm starving."

Edric gave a half-nod, trying not to let the rush of relief show on his face. "Great! I'll... I'll whip something up, then."

He moved over to the small stove, grateful to have something to focus on other than Lyra's green eyes. The galley wasn't much, a tiny space that barely allowed room for two people to move around, but it was functional. It had served Max and Edric well during the long trips when they couldn't rely on takeout or rations. And boy, did they rely on takeout too much; he could feel his clothes tighter than he remembered.

He opened a compartment and rummaged through the supplies, trying to keep his hands steady. "I think we've got enough stuff here for... a decent meal, I guess," he muttered, mostly to himself.

"You're already leagues ahead of me," Lyra teased lightly from behind. "I've been surviving on ration packs since I was with the Partisans. So whatever you make? It'll be an upgrade."

Edric couldn't help but chuckle, his nerves easing just a bit. "Well, don't get your hopes up too high. I'm not exactly a five-star chef, but I'll try not to burn anything."

As he set about preparing the meal, he stole a glance at Lyra, who had returned to her datapads but now with a more relaxed posture. Edric busied himself peeling and chopping vegetables, focusing on making each slice just the right size for cooking. He proud himself of being able to make a decent Trandoshan-style Pasta with Braised Bantha.

His hands moved mechanically, almost on auto-pilot, but his mind wasn't on it like he had hoped. He sensed Lyra's eyes on him a couple of times through the Force, observing him from behind as he worked. The silence between them stretched, growing heavier with each passing second. It felt awkward, even though he was focusing intently on the vegetables. Or tried to.

Usually, when Max was around, the older bounty hunter would be yapping nonstop, filling the quiet with exaggerated stories of his past adventures, always with an emphasis on his own prowess. But now, without that background noise, the quiet felt more suffocating.

"So..." Edric finally spoke, turning his head just slightly to glance over his shoulder. "What are you working on?"

Lyra snapped back to reality, her fingers pausing over the datapads. "Oh," she started. "I've sliced into some Imperial comm channels near the edge of the Core. Been monitoring them for a while now. Rono has been kind enough to relay the feeds through the station."

Edric heard her shift slightly in the seat, a little quieter now. "I'm trying to see if I can get any clues to... you know, where they might have taken my dad."

He paused for a moment at that, his knife hovering over the cutting board. He could hear the subtle strain in her voice, the way her confident tone changed when talking about her father, like going back to being only a little girl. Edric went back to chopping, careful not to let the silence grow too thick again. "That's... that's smart. The Empire's sloppy sometimes. Maybe you'll pick up something," he said, wincing internally. What are you even talking about? he thought, almost wishing he could slap himself in the face. He quickly finished the last of the vegetables, now fumbling for the spices to marinate them with as Lyra let out a tired sigh.

"Edric, can I ask you something?"

There was a new edge to her words, something more serious. Edric set down the bowl and turned to face her, his stomach tightening. Her eyes were focused on him, narrowed slightly as if she were trying to read him like one of her datapads.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

The question hit Edric like a punch to the gut. He blinked, caught off guard. His mouth opened, but nothing coherent came out at first.

"I—uh—I wasn't—"

Lyra rolled her eyes, cutting him off before he could embarrass himself further. "Come on, Edric. Look, I know you've got a lot going on. And yeah, I do too, but we agreed to help each other. So, let's just, I don't know... suck it up, alright?"

Her bluntness was jarring, but it also felt like a splash of cold water, waking him up from the awkward fog he'd been in. He swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck. She wasn't angry, just frustrated, and he couldn't blame her. He had been avoiding her, not intentionally, but because everything felt like it was spinning out of control, and he didn't know how to handle it.

"Yeah, you're right," he admitted, forcing himself to meet her gaze. "I've... I've been avoiding a lot of things. It's just—there's a lot happening all at once…"

"Welcome to the club," Lyra cut in with a forced grin and tilted head, her attempt at lightening the mood only masking her own frustration. "We all have a lot going on, Edric. But I thought I was here to help. I've had more conversations with Max since we left the station than I've had with you."

She sighed again, her shoulders dropping as she fidgeted with her hair, coiling it around her finger. Edric stood frozen, mouth slightly agape, his stomach feeling even emptier than before with guilt and frustration, mixing into the neverending storm inside him. How did he manage to screw things up so masterfully, without even realizing it? Seemed like that was his real talent.

And with Lyra, it hurt even more. The realization that he cared about her opinion, more than he'd initially let himself believe, twisted the knife in deeper. He turned back to the bowl, resuming the preparation of their meal, hoping the task would steady his nerves.

"I didn't mean to..." Edric started, his voice trailing off. He couldn't find the right words. No, that wasn't entirely true—he had so many words, all jumbled and fighting to get out, but none of them felt right. "I'm sorry, Lyra. Really. I've just been... overwhelmed. But that's no excuse. I should've been talking to you. I know you're here to help. I'm just... bad at letting people in."

"I mean, you were brought up in a cult, so that's not that much of a surprise," she teased, her voice light but with an undercurrent of something deeper. Her gaze softened. "But I'm not saying you're a bad person, Edric. I'm saying... I see how you act around me. I'm not stupid."

Edric's hands paused again, his heart thudding a little harder in his chest. He could feel the truth in what she was saying, the emotions they weren't talking about before. Maybe his Jedi upbringing had dulled his ability to recognize them, to understand them, but here they were. Just beneath the surface, waiting to rise up, but neither of them dared to let it. For now. He caught her looking him up and down.

She turned back to the datapads, her tone shifting slightly, more serious now. "But... we both have more than enough on our plates. I mean, look at everything we're dealing with... It's a lot. So, let's just do what we have to do first, and then..." She hesitated, her eyes meeting his again. "Then we'll see what happens."

Edric nodded, feeling a strange lump in his throat. There it was. The unspoken acknowledgment that there was something between them, something they both felt but couldn't afford to explore right now. He nodded, not trusting himself to say much more without fumbling over his words.

"Yeah... you're right," he finally managed, turning back to the meal. "We've got a lot to deal with."

But even as he said it, he couldn't help but wonder what "then" might look like when all of this was over. For now, though, it was just a distant thought, something to be shelved, like everything else.

Edric turned back to the cooking, focusing on slicing the meat into small cubes before marinating them. The sizzle of the stove and the aroma of spices mixing with the vegetables gradually filled the small galley, and his stomach responded with an even louder grumble than before. Lyra chuckled at the sound, and her laugh was so infectious that Edric couldn't help but join in.

"Sorry," he said, his cheeks definitely flushing as he stirred the pot with more enthusiasm than necessary.

"I'd be worried if you weren't hungry with how good that smells," Lyra said, with an expression that told Edric she was about to burst into laughter.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, the kind that didn't need filling again. Edric focused on the meal, occasionally stealing a taste from the bowl. By the time it was ready, he was surprisingly proud of what he'd managed to pull together. He dished out two very generous servings, the steam still rising from the plates as he brought them over to the table.

"Here you go," Edric said, setting one plate down in front of Lyra. She pushed her datapads aside and leaned in, the smell of the food drawing her attention immediately.

"This smells amazing," Lyra said, her eyes lighting up as the aroma hit her. Edric watched, feeling his palms sweat, as she picked up her fork and took the first bite. She closed her eyes, her chewing slowing to a halt as a small, almost inaudible moan escaped her lips.

The former Padawan couldn't control his lips curving seeing her reaction, and a sudden warmth spread in his chest, coupled with a buzzing sensation in his gut that was probably not the hunger. At least, he was good at something after all. He hadn't been able to fix much lately, but seeing her genuinely enjoy something he'd made, it was more rewarding than he'd expected.

"Stars, this is amazing!" Lyra concluded.

With an unshakable grin, Edric picked up his own fork and took a bite. The flavor bloomed on his tongue, the blend of salt and spices teasing his taste buds in just the right way. The meal was simple, but it was the best thing he'd tasted in what felt like forever. For a brief moment, the tension of the past few days faded into the background, and Edric allowed himself to savor it.

"It's alright," he replied, his voice carrying a bit of false modesty, though his grin betrayed him.

"Alright?" Lyra raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-chew to give him a mock glare. "You keep selling yourself short. And not just your cooking, by the way," she added, her tone softening as she took another bite.

Edric's grin faltered, but only slightly. Her words struck a chord, hitting on something deeper than just his culinary skills. He shrugged it off with a chuckle, but the warmth that spread through him at her compliment was undeniable.

She studied him for a moment, her gaze soft yet probing. "How are things with your big brother?"

Edric's hand paused over his plate for a beat. The question came a bit out of the blue, he hadn't expected to talk about Edwin with Lyra, though he supposed it was inevitable. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "He's... complicated."

Lyra snorted. "That's one way to put it."

"Heard you told him off too," Edric mentioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Let's just say he got that coming." She leaned back in the booth after cleaning up the last of her bite from the plate.

"He's been acting like he's got it all figured out," Edric continued, his tone more serious now. "Like everything's some calculated move. It's like nothing shakes him, not even... you know, losing our father."

"Maybe it's his way of keeping control. You know, to get through everything."

Edric let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his eyes. "I just... I don't know. It's hard to read him. He's my brother, but I don't even know him."

Lyra nodded, her fingers tracing the edge of her plate. "You haven't had a lot of time together. You're still figuring each other out, and that's not easy with everything happening so fast."

She probably had a point, Edric thought. They were still strangers, really. Brothers in blood, but not in experience. And with the weight of their legacy and the holocron hanging over their heads, they hadn't had a chance to really connect. Not the way brothers should. It didn't really help that neither of them were brought up with the tools to do that.

"I just... I don't know what he expects from me," Edric admitted quietly, playing with a piece of meat on his plate. "It feels like I'm always going to fall short, like he's waiting for me to mess up."

Lyra leaned forward, her eyes locking onto his. "Maybe he's waiting for you to step up, not mess up."

Edric stared at her, her words sinking in as he slowly lost himself in her dark green eyes, transported to the lush green forest on Tarnos when they were running away from the battle.

He'd spent so much time wondering what Edwin thought of him, whether his brother was silently judging him or keeping score of his failures. But maybe Lyra had a point. Maybe Edwin wasn't trying to test him—maybe he was just waiting for Edric to realize his own potential.

Lyra, sensing the shift in his mood, gave him a playful smile. "Honestly, give him a plate of your cooking, and I bet he'll be eating out of the palm of your hand."

An hour later, Edric stepped into his quarters aboard the Beast, the door hissing closed behind him. The quiet hum of the ship enveloped him, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Lyra. He couldn't shake her from his mind or their dinner. Somehow, despite everything happening, he felt a bit more anchored.

He glanced at the small bunk in the corner. Sleep had felt like an enemy these past few nights, a place where his mind would drag him back to the memories he would rather forget and keep in the dark confines of his subconsciousness. But now, with a belly full and the echoes of his conversation with Lyra still fresh, his eyes felt heavier, his mind clearer. His bed actually looked more inviting than ever.

He laid down on his back and stared for a moment at the durasteel bulkhead. No thoughts came, and the rhythmic hum of the ship slowly rocked him to sleep.

He was engulfed in darkness. No light, no warmth. Just an overwhelming cold that seeped into his bones, numbing him from the inside out. His breath came in sharp, frantic bursts, the frigid air clawing at his throat and nose. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the sound of his own quickened breathing.

Then, faintly, a flicker of light appeared above him—a pale blue crystal, suspended in the void. Another one blinked to life, then another, until countless crystals illuminated the space around him, casting an eerie glow over the ice-covered walls. He knew this place. Ilum. The planet where he'd once found his kyber crystal, the heart of his lightsaber. But something was different now. The air was heavier, the shadows deeper, the cold more biting.

Whispers echoed through the chamber, ghostly and disjointed, their words unintelligible but urgent. They called to him, pulling him forward, deeper into the icy cave. His feet moved before he could think, as though the path was leading him rather than the other way around. The further he walked, the more the voices swelled, urging him on.

"Yes, yes, come," the voices echoed, their whispers growing louder, more insistent. Edric glanced around, his breath misting in the cold air. His reflection caught in the icy walls—he was twelve years old again, clad in the traditional Jedi robes, his hair cut short, his Padawan braid resting on one shoulder. It felt so familiar, yet distant, like a memory that was no longer his own.

Ahead, he saw a large chamber, the walls shimmering with frost. In the center, his yellow kyber crystal hovered, radiating a soft, warm light, calling to him. He stepped closer, mesmerized, feeling the weight of the past press down on him.

"TAKE IT!" the voice commanded, suddenly harsh. Without thinking, his fingers reached for the glowing crystal. The moment his skin brushed against it, the ground beneath him gave way. The ice shattered, and he plunged into the abyss.

He fell.

Panic surged through him as the wind whipped past, his heart hammering in his chest. He stretched out with the Force, desperate to grasp onto anything, but there was nothing. Just emptiness. Cold, unforgiving emptiness. He kept falling, deeper and deeper, until the black void swallowed him whole.

Then, abruptly, the darkness spit him out.

Edric hit the ground with a thud, gasping for air as he pulled himself up. His body felt the same as it did in the waking world again, but his surroundings had changed. He was back in his sanctuary, the tall grass swaying gently in the breeze. The air was warm, the wind calm, yet something shifted quickly.

In front of him, a blaze ignited, devouring everything in its path. The fire crackled violently, sending waves of heat toward him. He spun around to find a serene lake behind him, its calm waters lapping at the shore.

Between the fire and the water, two figures began to emerge.

From the flames, a massive dark silhouette approached, its form indistinct but menacing, the fire creeping closer with each of its steps, holding a lightsaber with scarlet blade. From the lake, another figure appeared, its presence just as commanding, but peaceful in its movement, like a silent guardian, with a yellow saber.

Edric's heart raced as he stood frozen, caught between them. He took a step to the right, trying to move, but neither figure seemed to notice him. The fire licked at his heels, the water's waves softly crashing behind him. He was trapped between the two, his sanctuary transforming into a battlefield, and he had no idea which way to turn.

Then, with a sudden, violent motion, the two figures charged toward each other, their lightsabers igniting in unison. The clash of crimson and yellow sent a shockwave through the air, a fiery blast meeting a frigid surge of water. Edric stood mere feet away, feeling the blistering heat on one side and the calming chill of water on the other, as if the very elements themselves were waging war at the center of his being.

Their sabers crashed together again, the shadows around them twisting and writhing like living creatures. Each strike sent ripples through the air, the sound of their battle echoing in Edric's ears. He felt it deep in his bones—the pull of both forces, the fire and the water, each vying for control, for dominance. His sanctuary was unraveling, and with it, so was his sense of balance.

"Stop!" The word tore from his throat before he could think.

And just like that, they froze.

The figures halted mid-strike, their heads slowly turning toward him in unison, their movements unnaturally fluid, almost like shadows themselves. As they faced him, the inky darkness lifted from their faces, revealing something far worse than he had imagined.

Both figures were him.

One was scarred, deep fissures running across his face, glowing like molten lava, the heat radiating from his very skin. His eyes burned with a fury that threatened to consume everything. The other figure was radiating calmness, yet his veins had a blue undercurrent clinging to his features. His eyes were bright and welcoming, but also distant without true emotions.

Edric shook his head, closed his eyes and focused on the Force, wishing them all away. When he opened his eyes again, it was all black again. The dark figures were gone, swallowed by the void. In their place, his father and Master Kael Asher stood before him. His father's mouth moved, but no sound came from it—just silence, as if the words were trapped in his throat. His face was desperate, pleading, but Edric couldn't hear him.

Beside him, Kael Asher stood with a faint, knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. His eyes blazed with a sickly amber light, burning with a twisted sense of satisfaction.

"I know you, my young Padawan," Kael's voice echoed inside Edric's mind, even though his lips didn't move. The words coiled in his thoughts like a serpent. "I know your fear. I know your doubt. Let me help you. Let the Dark Side guide you."

The words coiled inside him, tighter and tighter, wrapping themselves around his insecurities like a vice. Fear. Doubt. Anger. Each one surfacing, bubbling up from places he thought he'd buried deep. The Dark Side's pull was relentless, like a tide rising, determined to sweep him away.

No, Edric repeated to himself, over and over. No, I won't let this happen.

"You're denying what you truly are," Kael's voice purred, his gaze piercing straight through Edric. "The Jedi have always been blind to their own weakness. But you... you've seen it. You know it."

He's not my master, Edric thought fiercely, shaking his head as if that could shake the thoughts free. He's not my master anymore.

Kael's voice grew louder, more venomous, resonating through Edric's mind. "You can't fight the Dark Side, Edric! It's in you. It's been in you all along. Let it in. Let it free you!" With that, Kael's figure moved to Doran and stabbed him with his lightsaber, a manic grin spreading across his face.

No, Edric screamed inwardly, willing the words to fade, willing the images to leave his mind. His entire body tensed as he tried to force the voice away, his breaths coming out in sharp bursts. Leave me alone! Let me rest!

"The power of the Dark Side cannot be denied!" Kael's voice erupted, filled with fury and dominance, crashing into Edric's mind like a storm.

Edric's eyes snapped open, the dream shattered, his body drenched in sweat aboard the Beast. His heart pounded in his chest as his breath came in ragged gasps.

"Kriff," he muttered under his breath, staring up at the ceiling of his cabin. His hands trembled as he wiped the sweat from his brow, the darkness of the dream lingering in the back of his mind like a shadow that wouldn't fully fade.