Chapter: 9 Nomads

"So much given by so many in the name of so few."

A planet divided! The frigid world of Aren is in a constant state of conflict. With the collapse of its monarchy, its inhabitants remain locked in a series of territorial battles with little to no gain. Treaties are broken, families are separated, and peace remains a nonexistent option. While those in power do nothing to deescalate tensions, the people of Aren are left to endure the repercussions.

Despite its scenic vistas, Aren was hardly a tourist destination anymore. The desolate world of Hoth was more likely to garner travelers over such a conflicted planet. Despite their varying races and backgrounds, the people of Aren were united in their lust for power. At least, that was what their leaders made them sound like. It was how the rest of the galaxy's news outlets were portraying them daily. The situation on Aren had seen so little progress, that many news sources had stopped reporting on it altogether. It was easy for anyone on the planet to feel abandoned. Their world hovered practically alone in the northernmost reaches of what was literally called the Unknown Regions. Aren was in enough disarray to prove useless to the Separatists and far enough for the Republic to care even less. While most had forgotten their planet's history amidst such never-ending fighting, there were those on Aren who recalled its once prestigious monarchy. Once the system fell, those serving under it thought themselves superior. Rather than keep the rest of the planet united, they sought to dominate them. They believed themselves to be the only ones worthy of being called Aren people, causing others to split into factions.

Regardless of such cleanly severed ties and bold lines drawn in the snow, there were still those who didn't know where they fit in it all. Some of these wandering outcasts walked the edge of existence every day, never knowing what fate awaited them. One such pair sat atop an icy ledge during a snowstorm of all things.

Kristoff Bjorg let Aren's chilling winds blast across his wrapped face. Snow clung to his goggles in clusters while his blonde mop of hair tussled in the breeze. No amount of blustering wind could surpass the grumble of his stomach. He waited for the storm to ease up and reached into his woven knapsack. The rising sun illuminated the fresh bundle of delectable carrots he gladly withdrew. Kristoff munched away, fearlessly looking down as his legs dangled several stories over the cliffside. A distinct grunting sounded over his shoulder. "One second," Kristoff assured but the groans intensified. "Alright!" He sighed and gently extended one of the carrots behind him.

A hoofed hand snatched it as a bipedal, lumbering creature consumed it. With jet-black eyes and proud antlers, the furry companion towered beside Kristoff. It handed him a pair of macrobinocularus and mooed.

"Thanks, Sven." Kristoff said and scanned below. "Looks like the caravan is right on time." A series of hovertanks from Aren's capital were cruising through the snowy forest. Each vehicle brandished the green crocus symbol of the Aren people. "If what we've heard is true, it's now or never."

Kristoff and Sven vaulted over the cliff and began a perilous descent down its jagged side. They kicked up frosted stones and proceeded to jog down a steep incline. Sven snorted as his hooves slid across a thin sheet of barely visible ice. "Careful, buddy!" Kristoff warned over the winds. "We've still got a ways to go and I can't have you dying on me."

The mound of snow beneath Kristoff gave out under his weight. He felt gravity take him over the edge until Sven caught him by the hand. Sven smirked and barked before heaving him back up. "I know," Kristoff sighed. "I'm not dying on you either." The two resumed their descent as he thought, I wish I had the strength of a Cevrian.

As they neared the bottom of the ridge and edge of the forest, Kristoff decided to take inventory. "You still got those ion grenades?" he asked. Sven nodded and jingled his mangy backpack. Kristoff removed a pair of slings and passed one to Sven. "Four tanks, four throws. The next to last tank in the convoy has a crate containing all the stolen relics from our village." Sven grumbled in response. "You're right, Sven. They'll just come back for it, but we can't let them get away with this. We need to show the Aren that they can't walk all over the rest of this planet. Plus you came with me this far and can't back out now."

Sven rolled his eyes as the sound of hovertanks echoed through the treeline. "Get down," Kristoff ordered and shoved Sven into snow-speckled shrubbery. He forced him down further to avoid his antlers sticking up. Once his friend was secure, Kristoff slid to the adjacent side of the pathway and went prone. He let the snow embrace his body as the caravan closed in. Gently sliding his hand across his coat, Kristoff readied his sling and primed the first ion grenade. Two grenades, two guys, alternate throws. He reiterated the plan to himself. We got this.

The leading tank's intimidating rumble disheveled the snow around Kristoff. He ignored it and took aim with his sling. Moments before he could fire, a mound of snow from a weak tree collapsed atop of him. Kristoff hurried to break free of the entrapment while the grenade he'd primed stressfully counted down. With a resounding "Hah!" Kristoff launched the ion explosive towards the tank. It clanged for a moment before unleashing a blinding, cyan shockwave. The tank's repulsorlift engines died and it sunk deep into the snow. Those behind it came to a halt as Sven flung the next grenade. Kristoff wasted no time striking the...last tank.

Wait, Kristoff thought. Weren't there- He suddenly realized the first grenade he threw was at the second tank in line. Four. When the snow landed on him, it completely threw off his perception. The actual first and still fully-operational tank had turned around to aid the rest of the convoy. All while Sven, believing the tanks to all be inoperable from his end, had advanced towards the crate.

No, Kristoff thought. No no. Buddy you still have one grenade. Think about it, he willed his partner to hear him telepathically. He had no choice but to run from cover and into the fray. He couldn't risk Sven being captured and enslaved like the rest of the Cevrian populace. Sven had started ripping the crate off the tank when he heard the sounds of the other vehicle. He looked up with raised, fuzzy brows and was shocked to see it heading towards him. His delay gave the Aren soldiers time to exit and examine the commotion. Kristoff sprinted as quickly as he could, but one of the soldiers already had Sven in her sights.

"Hey!" Kristoff haplessly yelled, hoping to distract them. While he did manage to get some of the soldiers to face him, it didn't stop the other from blasting his friend. "Sven!" Kristoff screeched as the Cevrian plummeted with an agonizing wail. He wanted to run and fight, but he couldn't have both. Kristoff was stuck in grief as one of the soldiers tackled him into the snow. "Let me go!" Kristoff flailed as tears fled his eyes. The soldier punched him across the face and ripped off his backpack. Through his daze, Kristoff felt himself being dragged towards the disabled tanks.

The woman who'd shot Sven knelt down and examined the young man's face. "He looks Aren," she said.

"What business does he have out here?" the soldier who'd struck him asked while emptying his bag. A canteen, lantern, and several carrots plummeted to the ground. "Let alone with a Cevrian."

Kristoff angrily spat blood on the soldier's umber boots. He retaliated by raising a white-gloved fist, but the woman stopped him. "Stay your hand," she said. "Perhaps this traitor to his own kind can prove useful. Are there other Cevrians? Where are they hiding?"

"Even if I knew," Kristoff winced. "I'd die with my friend before I told you anything."

"We'll bring him to the capital for interrogation," she said while setting her blaster to stun. "Let's get the other tanks operational again before-" In that instant, a lance zipped through the treeline and plunged directly into her chest.

The man restraining Kristoff spun towards the projectile's direction with widened eyes. "Northuldra!" he warned before a shorter spear pierced his throat. Kristoff flung himself under the nearest tank as blasterfire erupted around him. The bodies of Aren soldiers crashed against the snow as it was drenched in scarlet puddles. Battle cries and uproarious horns blared from the forest as another faction charged in. The remaining tank launched explosive lasers into the trees and caused a landslide. As Kristoff buried his head in cover, he heard a familiar groan amidst the crossfire. He peered up to see Sven twitching at the tank's edge.

"I'm coming, buddy!" Kristoff assured and crawled to the Cevrian. He ran his hand across furry face and slapped it. "Keep those eyes open, you hear? Stay with me, Sven." Sven groaned as he glanced at the thick blaster wound in his shoulder. "Sit tight," Kristoff assured and rolled across the battlefield. He eyed a deceased, Aren medic and made a break for him. Northuldra and Aren forces battled atop the ravaged snow while Kristoff fought to save his friend. He reached the medic's corpse and rolled it over. Unsure what to grab, he simply ripped off the entire medkit and crawled back to Sven. An impaled soldier collapsed beside Kristoff, forcing him to quicken the pace. He threw himself over Sven and hastily unfastened the medkit. Syringes and battered wrappings poured out in clusters as Kristoff withdrew a green cylinder. "Hold still," he warned and injected it into Sven's wound.

The Aren tank fired another explosive round. While it toppled trees, a band of Northuldra sprung onto its hull. They jammed their spears into the visual slits while the soldiers inside returned fire. One of the Northuldra threw a makeshift explosive into the slit and the result left a powdery residue. The ensuing smoke forced the Aren driver to open the hatch for ventilation. He breathed his last sliver of fresh air before a spear was wedged into his chest. With the driver down, the valiant Northuldra poured into the tank to finish the rest.

Sven groaned as Kristoff delicately removed the emptied vial. "It was a health stim," he assured. "It's gonna numb the pain and kick your body's healing into overdrive."

Kristoff wished he'd had another stim with him as a hefty boot kicked him in the abdomen. He buckled as his unknown assailant kicked again and sent him hurling across the snow. He stared into the lifeless eyes of a soldier next to him and resumed focus on the incoming attacker. Armed with nothing more than the medkit, Kristoff swung it upwards. The Northuldra warrior slashed it to ribbons and struck him with the butt of her staff. "Wait!" Kristoff begged. "Spare the Cevrian!" She halted her attack, yet still stomped forward. "He's hurt," Kristoff explained as the sounds of battle simmered around him.

The warrior's piercing, rich, brown eyes were the only thing visible beneath a snow-splattered cowl. "What business is the life of a Cevrian to a heartless Aren like you?" she hissed and jabbed her lance to his face.

"I wasn't with the convoy!" Kristoff insisted. He backed away until his shoulders met the boots of encroaching Northuldra. It wasn't long before he realized he was completely surrounded. "I'm...I'm Aren yes but it's not what you think."

Sven grumbled from the ground across from Kristoff and the warrior understood him. "He says you speak the truth. That you're his friend."

Kristoff hurriedly nodded until another warrior said, "It could be a trauma bond, chieftain. Some Cevrian slaves don't understand life beyond their master's grip."

"No!" Kristoff blurted and immediately regretted his outburst. Multiple spears lowered to his neck as he chose his future tone wisely. "I-" He swallowed hard. "Sven and I are outcasts. We were robbed by the Aren government and were trying to get our supplies back. Our ambush went awry and luckily you showed up."

"Luckily," the chieftain reiterated. She lowered her staff, but not her suspicions. "Take him," she ordered her warriors.

"Wait, what?" Kristoff gasped. "What about Sven?" The Northuldra held Kristoff down as he watched them huddle around the Cevrian. "What are you doing to him? Leave him alone!" he threatened fruitlessly.

He rolled over to see warriors dragging out the last Aren soldier. One of the Northuldra stripped him of all weaponry and shoved him towards the clearing. "Tell your capital that this is our forest," the warrior bellowed. "Set foot in it again and we won't return a survivor."

A Northuldra scavenged one of the dissected medkit's wraps and knelt beside Kristoff. He struggled in the other warriors' grips while they placed the wrap around his head like a blindfold. "Sven!" he called through his blindness. "I'm still here!" He felt his legs dragging across the snow as a sharp object nicked his neck.

"Silence," ordered a voice as Kristoff hung his head. He listened to the tromping of booted feet as they crunched firm snow. The woodland birds chittered away while the crisp fires of damaged tanks faded from memory. Kristoff's legs grew numb to their abrasions and he felt he could lose consciousness at any moment. Despite being blindfolded, he could tell the sunlight had vanished. The soft snow had been replaced by the gravelly terrain of a deep cavern. Stalactite drippings caught his attention as his head swayed. Clusters of whispering voices echoed across thick walls of rock.

He felt a hand tug the blindfold off and he glimpsed a bushel of hay. Before his eyes could adjust any further, the warriors shoved him into the corner and crowded around him. The chieftain removed her furred cowl, revealing herself to be roughly Kristoff's age. "You said you were trying to get your supplies back," she stated and Kristoff nodded. The chieftain withdrew a yellow crystal and Kristoff's heart sank. "Then tell me, what is an Aren and Cevrian doing with Troll kyber?"

"If you want the truth," Kristoff began. "You'd better brace yourself for something even harder to believe."

"Give it your best," the chieftain insisted. "Otherwise I'll go with the story that you're thieves out to save your own skins."

"When I was a kid, my parents were killed in the Great Uprising." Kristoff glowered. "I don't see what was so great about it. The capital wasn't safe anymore, and anyone loyal to the crown was being executed. I tried to stick it out with hopeful friends of my parents' but it was only a matter of time before the new regime caught up with them too. Laws passed to inhibit Cevrian slavery, and I used one of the riots as cover for my escape." Kristoff chuckled to himself. "Only, I wouldn't be alone. Sven was just a calf back then, and we two misfits decided to pair up. We may not have understood our languages back then, but we knew anywhere was safer than the capital."

"You're boring me," the chieftain muttered while flourishing her spear.

"It was only a matter of time before we kids were in way over our heads," Kristoff rushed. "We delved further into the woods than we ever thought possible. Starving and defenseless, we trekked to the northern mountains and discovered the Trolls. Only, they weren't savage like the stories we'd heard. They were a humble people trying to survive just like the rest of us. They took us in and for years, we learned to live off the land among them. They're my family," Kristoff insisted. "The Aren army broke their treaty to stay off their land and trespassed on our village. There isn't a fighter within the Trolls' ranks and I pray you won't exploit that information." For a moment, Kristoff seemed stern against the chieftain. "They've already suffered enough. Thrice this month our leader has pled for the Trolls to be left alone."

"But the Aren do not care," the chieftain answered. "It feels odd saying it to one of them, and yet you aren't. You do still show compassion as you fought to save your friend's life. I will take you to him." She withdrew her spear and tossed Kristoff the kyber crystal. He cradled it and basked in its soft, golden glow. "Fear not," she said. "While we don't see eye to eye with the Trolls, our pressing conflict is with the Aren."

"Thank you," Kristoff said as he followed her. "Chieftain-"

"Honeymaren," she answered. "My brother Ryder and I serve as the leaders of this territory. With the Aren advancing on our forest, we've been forced to move our people underground. But do not mistake this precaution for cowardice."

"Oh I don't," Kristoff mumbled. "After what I saw your warriors do to that convoy, I'd say you're all quite capable."

Honeymaren guided Kristoff down a winding stretch of intricate tunnels. Stoic Northuldra observed their traversal until the duo reached a healing chamber. A jovial man was spoon-feeding Sven a bowl of warm soup. "Sven!" Kristoff shouted.

The Cevrian mooed joyously and tried to stand. "Woah," warned his caretaker. "Not yet, big fella."

"Ryder," Honeymaren said. "How's the Cevrian doing?"

"He'd be healing a lot quicker if he sat still," Ryder insisted.

The chieftains watched as Kristoff gently hugged Sven. "I thought I'd lost you," he admitted. Sven licked his face, leaving the Northuldra all the more perplexed.

"Never thought I'd see the day where an Aren befriended a Cevrian of all things," Ryder said. "But I'm biased considering I mostly see to runaway slaves."

As if on cue, the sound of other Cevrian's echoed around the corner. Sven seemed the most curious and defied all orders to sit down. He trudged across the tunnel and leaned over to find a thriving community of runaway Cevrians. Bucks and does eyed him from the entryway and happily beckoned him over. They had grown accustomed to other rescued Cevrians and enjoyed welcoming the latest members of the family. Sven glanced at Kristoff as if asking for permission, but his friend merely shrugged.

While Sven went to mingle with his kind, Kristoff smiled faintly. "Things up top seem so bleak on the daily, yet down here sights like this offer hope. Maybe Aren isn't doomed."

"Make no mistake about the former," Honeymaren replied. "Everyone down here knows the struggle for this planet has just begun. The Aren have showed us that they're willing to cross lines and shatter treaties. If we lingered, whatever peace we knew now would be temporary."

"I'm afraid she's right," Ryder added. "Northuldra and Cevrians alike will fight for a better tomorrow."

"You're welcome to join our fight," Honeymaren told Kristoff. "We could use an Aren to get behind enemy lines. Plus things already seem like home for your friend."

Kristoff didn't spend much time considering the chieftain's offer. "We already have a family, and there's supplies that needs to be rightfully returned to them."

"Very honorable," Honeymaren admitted. "But our offer will always stand so long as the fight goes on. You'll find your village's belongings on a sled by the cave entrance."

Kristoff thanked her and beckoned to Sven. "Time to go!" The Cevrian was initially surprised but obliged. His brethren begged for him to say, but were astonished when he ultimately picked an Aren. Sven spoke in his native tongue as they neared the exit. His words prompted Kristoff to guffaw. "Really? You're only sticking around to make sure I don't die? I'm sorry, who was the one who got shot? Okay, it's partially my fault...Okay all my fault." Kristoff pat Sven's sturdy back. "Thanks for sticking it out with me."

"One more thing," Honeymaren called as the boys halted. "Do not mistake this mercy as a given right. Honor our secrecy and no harm will befall the Trolls. Betray us, and-"

"I think we get the message," Kristoff assured. "The Northuldra's secret is safe with us."

"For their sake, it better be." Ryder muttered to his sister.

The hike beyond the forest was lengthy, but no snowstorm meant clearer pathways. The sun was setting, which meant wolflike anoobas would soon be on the prowl. Their predatory howls sounded in the distance and motivated the boys to pick up their pace. Sven and Kristoff's backs were aching from tugging the sled from its respective straps. Still they pressed onward in hopes of beating dusk, yet failure to do so seemed inevitable. Despite wearing such a thick leather coat, Kristoff still felt the planet's mighty chill. He shivered and reached into his battered knapsack.

"It's a miracle my lantern survived all of this," he huffed. As he set the device alight, it illuminated the dead trees stretching beside them. A series of glowing, yellow eyes glistened in the shadows. "Sven," Kristoff whispered. "Don't...move." He gingerly held up his lantern to reveal a pack of wild anoobas. Their fangs were bared as they snarled ravenously. Sven worriedly mooed until Kristoff obliged. "You're right. Stupid idea about not moving. Run!" They heaved the sled as quickly as they could while the pack gave chase.

They didn't get far before the first anooba pounced towards Kristoff. He ducked under it and made for the sled, where two more of the creatures waited for him. Sven furiously rammed into an anooba with his antlers and rushed to Kristoff's aid. Armed with nothing more than a lantern, Kristoff slammed it across an anooba's snout. It whimpered while more canines emerged from the woodlands.

"Quick, Sven!" Kristoff hollered. "Lean!"

Realizing they were on an incline, Sven obliged and placed all his weight forward. The sled zipped down the nearest slope while the anoobas struggled to catch up. Wind blasted the duo's faces as they celebrated a speedy getaway. Any celebration was short-lived as the sled gained momentum. Kristoff and Sven braced as they crashed into a narrow gully. The sled split to pieces while Kristoff desperately clung to the supply crate. "I am not losing this again!" he exclaimed.

The impact sent Kristoff flying but Sven was ready to catch both him and the crate. Gratitude would have to wait as the anooba pack closed in for the kill. With nowhere to go behind natural walls of stone, Kristoff and Sven prepared themselves for combat. The anoobas lurched toward them, each trailing off in a different direction. There were too many in the pack to keep track of as their claws dug up snow. Their furious growls alluded to how starving they probably were.

Before the nearest anooba could strike, its ears perked up and it retreated. Kristoff let his guard down to observe that the other anoobas were fleeing as well. "What the-" he said only to realize a rockslide had begun overhead. While he initially believed it to have been caused by the sled, his panic ceased when the 'boulders' grew limbs.

The stones unraveled into a clan of grassy creatures. With pointy ears and bulbous noses, they hobbled about to secure a perimeter for the boys. "Trolls," Kristoff sighed. "You gotta love them."

"WHERE IS HE?" one of them roared.

"Uhoh," Kristoff worried as a Troll stomped up to him. "Um...hey Ma."

She snatched him by the collar and shook him rigorously. "I don't know whether to hug or strangle you. Do you have any idea how worried I was? You could've been killed!"

"Give the boy a break, Bulda." another Troll said.

"Pa?" Kristoff realized from his adoptive mother's grip.

"I'm not going easy on him this time, Cliff." Bulda insisted. "We gave him plenty of leeway last time and what'd he do? He ran off on some pointless quest for vengeance. Kristoff, honey. You're better than that."

"Why am I taking all the heat here?" Kristoff retorted. "Sven came too."

"Because you're the bad influence," Bulda intoned.

Sven shrugged and nodded in agreement. "Whose side are you on?" Kristoff asked his friend. "Look, the Aren had no right to seize our village's property. Sven and I got it back."

Bulda facepalmed. "And don't you think the Aren military will just come back and punish us further?"

"First of all, they would keep walking over us anyway if we let them." Kristoff argued. "Second, if anything it looks like the Northuldra destroyed the convoy."

The Trolls froze with widened eyes. Cliff dropped any notion of cutting Kristoff some slack. "Wait," he spoke gruffly. "Please tell me you didn't get involved with the Northuldra." Kristoff tried lying, but he couldn't bring himself to and ultimately nodded.

"By the stones," Bulda gasped. "What happened to Sven's shoulder? Did those Northuldra savages do that?"

"No that was from the soldiers," Kristoff insisted and Bulda almost fainted. "Hey!" he snapped. "We made it back and we're okay. The Northuldra have no quarrel with us, the Aren will be occupied fighting them, and we got our stuff back. On a forsaken planet like this, I'd take that as good news."

Bulda and Cliff exchanged worried glances. "Son," she said. "You need to see Grand Pabbie."

"I have something those cowards took from him anyway," Kristoff said.

He and Sven followed the Trolls back to their valley. Stone dwellings and mossy hovels dotted the moonlit landscape as Trolls emerged from cover. Some were still rebuilding homes from where Aren soldiers had barged through. The sight made Kristoff sick as he wished he could grant more hope to his people. It did delight him and Sven to see the Trolls rejoicing in the recovered artifacts.

"At least they're happy with our deeds," Kristoff mentioned.

"But at what cost?" a breathy voice asked. Kristoff, Sven, and the surrounding Trolls bowed as their king stepped forth. "I strictly told you to leave the Aren invaders be." Pabbie said. "If you wish to be one of us, Kristoff and Sven, you will heed my teachings."

"With all due respect," Kristoff said. "Your way of peace is admirable if the Aren respect it. What would you do if they were to march on our village again?" The other concerned Trolls looked to their king for an answer.

"To fight the Aren is to be destroyed," Pabbie declared. "We win by surviving, and I plan to move us deeper into mountains. The Aren government has enough land for their people to thrive in."

Only they don't, Kristoff thought. They'll never have enough.

"I know you told us not to go," Kristoff said. "And I am truly sorry for making anyone worry." He revealed the yellow kyber crystal and tossed it to Pabbie. "But that is rightfully yours."

Pabbie humored Kristoff with a smile. "Come with me," he said. The group followed their elder to a sacred spring away from prying eyes. It seemed like everyone except Sven and Kristoff had an idea about what was occurring.

Kristoff caught on and stayed close to Sven. "If this is some kind of punishment-" he started.

"Kristoff," Pabbie intoned. "Look around you. What do you see?"

He huffed and observed the frigid landscape. "Ice, ice...oh and I think there might be some ice over there." Pabbie's glower and Bulda's nudge forced him to think more critically. He listened to the gentle, yet harsh winds as they whisked across the desolate stones. The mountains seemed to stretch on forever as he recounted how much his people had struggled over the months...even years. A single, bleak word materialized within and it pained him to speak such a truth. With a burdening sigh, Kristoff uttered "Hopelessness."

Pabbie woefully nodded to his fellow creatures. "Kristoff, dear boy." he said. "You live among us, but you are not Troll. Where we see consistency, you see stagnation. It's the Aren in you."

"Not even Aren," Cliff admitted. "To yearn for more is a human trait."

"Okay?" Kristoff worried.

"Our planet is rich in resources," Pabbie explained. "A trading ship has ventured from offworld to mine some of our precious kyber."

Kristoff's eyes widened and nostrils flared. "And you're letting them?"

"Son," Bulda calmed him with the raising of her hand. "Please hear him out."

"The traders are permitted to take a portion of our kyber in exchange for accepting you and Sven as crew members," Pabbie concluded.

Kristoff scoffed. "So this is a punishment. If you wanted to exile us you could've just said it."

"Don't you get it, boy?" Cliff growled. "We're trying to save you!"

"There's no life for you here," Bulda choked.

Kristoff looked to Sven in sheer disbelief. "I have all of you," he asserted.

"And you always will," Bulda assured. "But this war...this endless, bitter war will shred the planet to pieces. I...we don't want you boys to be a part of that. We want you to have a future beyond all these rivalries. You're not meant for a constant life on the run."

"Well it's the life I choose," Kristoff answered. "Sven and I aren't leaving you to join some blasted traders of all people."

They stormed off as Pabbie left him with a final thought. "In contrast to these misty mountains, I ask you to look to the stars tonight. I guarantee more words will come to mind if you do."

Kristoff despised how correct the king was. As he lay restless in his mossy bed, he gazed up at a starry sky. While such death and despair reigned supreme on Aren, there seemed to be hope amongst the stars. The Trolls were a primitive people lacking in most technologies. It was a miracle Kristoff and Sven had stolen ion grenades from an Aren encampment and lived to use them. Now, the thought of possible space travel enticed him. He only wished the traders could take every Troll with them as well. But how could he bring himself to leave behind those who gave him so much, even if they willed him to leave? Kristoff wondered how many planets there were in the galaxy and what the governments across each were like. Surely they had to be better off than Aren was.

"What do you think about the stars, Sven?" Kristoff queried. Sven grumbled and stuck out his tongue from the opposite bed. "Of course you think they look like tasty snowflakes. Thanks, buddy. That was powerful insight." With a roll of his eyes, Kristoff shifted to try and find a comfy spot. As he nestled deeper into relaxation, a red beam streaked across his window. "What the-"

A fiery explosion sent the roof of his hovel crumbling down. Sven sprung to support it while Kristoff threw himself out the window. Once his friend was out of harm's way, Sven dropped the debris and leapt to safety. They stood frozen in shock as the village endured a laser barrage. Trolls rolled out from their homes and towards Pabbie's shrine.

"It's the Aren!" a Troll screamed before a laser blasted through his back. Kristoff caught him, but it was too late to save the creature. He looked with furious eyes as soldiers marched on the village.

Kristoff's nightmare had come true and he couldn't help but feel like it was his fault. It wasn't the time for wallowing nor would the Northuldra be around to aid him this time. "Stop it!" he shouted and tackled the nearest soldier. With a flurry of furious fists, Kristoff bludgeoned his foe into the ground and scavenged his blaster. Having no idea how to use one, he blindly fired it towards the soldiers. Sven impaled an enemy with his antlers and took up a defense behind Kristoff. "We can do this!" he shouted only to realize they were nearly surrounded. He had also already used all of the charges in his blaster and hit no one. "Maybe we can't." Sven scooped Kristoff into his arms and joined the rest of the village in its evacuation.

Lucky for them, it seemed the Aren were more concerned about destroying the village than pursuing its inhabitants. Still, their cruel deed served as a devastating statement. The Trolls continued their exodus into the northern mountains until the sounds of destruction diminished. The billowing smoke from their razed village could be seen from the valley below. While Trolls wept, Kristoff hugged his parents in a solemn reunion.

"I'm so sorry," Kristoff said. "This is all my fault. If we hadn't gone back for those artifacts maybe they wouldn't have struck again." He dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. "I brought this upon all of us."

"No," Pabbie said. "Dear boy, the Aren were going to keep attacking us. They will keep doing so unless we go further into hiding. I was a fool to think we could hold out another night. But this hiding...this death...it isn't meant for you. Did you look to the stars?"

Kristoff sulked. "I did, Grand Pabbie. And...I do see the possibilities out there. But there are also probabilities. The risks out there-"

"Have better outcomes than the risks down here," Bulda interrupted. "Don't waste this chance, my son. The stars are offering you wings to fly to them. You take them, you free yourself, and you never look back."

A tear escaped Kristoff's eye as he knelt down to his mother. "I'll do it." Sven grunted behind him. "We'll do it. But this isn't goodbye. We will come back, and we'll set this whole planet straight." Kristoff brought Bulda and Cliff into a tearful embrace. "I will miss you so much." Sven threw himself over all of them to complete the group hug.

"You will find the trading ship at Lee-kris Fjord," Pabbie said and removed one of his yellow kyber necklaces. "Never forget your origins, Kristoff."

"Never," he affirmed before departing down the summit with Sven.

Kristoff was still reeling from the past day's events. He jogged down a loamy, sludge covered slope while clutching his new necklace. Kyber was such a mysterious crystal. In rarity, Kristoff found both its beauty and power. He stuffed the necklace away as the sounds of machinery drew ever closer. Drilling gears sparked from a cave near the Lee-kriss Fjord where an elongated freighter was docked. Men and women of species Kristoff and Sven had never dreamed of were hauling Kyber crystals into hovercrates as he arrived. A lanky Twi'lek finished securing a load of kyber and then stared at the duo. With a snarky scoff, he waved the boss over.

Contrary to his underling, the boss was a massive Besalisk. The four-armed alien had a robust, scruffy waddle that jiggled when he trudged. "This planet just gets weirder and weirder," he jeered.

Says the weirdest-looking guy here, Kristoff thought.

"I take it you're the boys that Trolly king wanted us to take offworld?" he asked.

"We are," Kristoff answered. "And it's Troll."

The Besalisk rolled his eyes. "You must be fun at parties." While his upper arms crossed, his lower pair scratched his buttocks. "Well you'll call me Kambo. Boss Kambo if you really want to kiss up. You two look like you can haul a decent weight so get lifting and we'll take off momentarily."

Kristoff and Sven were quick to get to work. Despite their efforts, it felt sacrilegious to be mining their people's precious kyber. Kristoff chose to see it as a further testament of how far the Trolls were willing to go to guarantee him and Sven a future. It was only a matter of time before the freighter was loaded and its crew was ordered to prepare for takeoff.

The boys were unsure what to do with themselves while the rest of the crew mocked them for it. They clung to the nearest bars and each other as the freighter left Aren. Every rumble felt as though the rickety craft was about to explode, particularly when it breached the atmosphere. The crew bursted into laughter as Kristoff and Sven yelped from the hyperspace blastoff. Kristoff was unsure when the cacophonous, inter-dimensional travel would end as he clung for dear life. Relief seized him as the freighter finally quieted within deep space.

Sven and Kristoff stood awestruck as they stared out one of the stained viewports. The unknown seemed ever reachable as they sailed through the inky void of space. Each star seemed like a possible opportunity yet, Kristoff couldn't help but feel sad. Sven sniffled beside him and Kristoff pet his head. "I miss home too," he said.

"Well ain't that sweet," Boss Kambo mocked. The crew hissed and chortled from the balcony above like a flock of irksome birds. "Should we get you two a room?" he added with a kissy face.

Sven growled until Kristoff calmed him. "We're not bothering anyone." he defended. "You want to be an ass, go live on Aren."

The crew countered with an echoing, "Oooo,"

Kambo sneered and marched up to Kristoff. "You better watch how you talk to your boss, boy."

"Watch how you talk to your crew," he quipped.

Kambo snarled, yet smirked. "You got a fire in you. I like it. But if there's one thing you need to learn about this galaxy, it's that nothing is free and living ain't easy." His eyes trailed down to Kristoff's necklace. "Speaking of which. You holding out on us, boy?"

He reached for the kyber crystal as Kristoff swatted his hand away. "This one's mine," he defended.

"As boss, everything on this ship is mine." Kambo spat and reached again. This time Kristoff dared to punch the Besalisk. While he landed a painful hit against his flabby wattle, Kambo was quick to counter. He grabbed Kristoff with three arms while the fourth wound up a punch. Sven intervened and tackled the boss to the floor. A brawl ensued as other crew members dropped down to defend Kambo. Kristoff and Sven battered away who they could before being kicked against the viewport.

"Come on then!" Kristoff taunted through his facial bruises.

Much like the panicked anoobas back on Aren, the crew didn't attack. Even Kambo seemed nervous though they had the boys vastly outnumbered. Suddenly, a looming shadow darkened the room. Kristoff and Sven peered out of the viewport to find a mysterious craft closing in. Its ominous hull was dark enough to shroud the nearby stars as it quietly hovered over.

"What is that?" Kristoff asked.

"Dili?" Rambo asked.

"Yes boss?" responded the scraggly Twi'lek.

"How fast can you get us back into hyperspace?"

"The hyperdrive is still cooling down, sir."

Kambo gulped. "Then prepare for battle."

"But boss," Dili worried. "That's the Black Pearl."

"I know, damn it! Battle stations!" Sven and Kristoff recovered while the rest of the crew scrambled to their stations. A siren blared overhead as they tossed blasters to one another. They weren't even finished arming when laser cannons struck their engines. "Someone steer us out of here!" Kambo ordered.

"We can't!" another crewmember hollered. "We're caught in a tractor beam." Those were his last words as the port beside him bursted into flames. Whomever was attacking the freighter was no stranger to boarding vessels. They were efficiently crippling the craft while its crew was still scrambling to prepare.

Blasterfire erupted through the smoke and bodies were already dropping. "Forget this!" Dili blurted. "You two!" He pointed towards Kristoff and Sven. "Help me get this escape pod open." The Twi'lek's frail arms trembled as he tried to pry the hatch. "It's jammed."

Kristoff and Sven rushed over to help him with the peculiar device. All they needed to hear was "escape" as they rushed to Dili's aid. They started to heave open the hatch when a bizarre, scraggly creature plopped atop the pod. Its spindly body bounced along with its two, extremely floppy ears. The creature screeched through its beak-like nose, startling Dili until he fell over. The Twi'lek tried to shoot the critter, but it was too fast and all the missed shots damaged the escape pod. Kristoff and Sven backed away as Dili angrily chased the saboteur.

Dili caught its tail when a vibrosword pierced his chest. Kristoff's blood ran cold as he observed the carnage across the bridge. The entire crew lay dead while Kambo stumbled behind the mysterious swordsman. "Please," the Besalisk begged. "You can take double...no...triple the kyber. Just let me live."

This ominous captain used his free hand to blast Kambo dead with a pistol. He then slowly removed his blade from Dili while the monkey-lizard scurried up his arm. The bridge was eerily silent until Kristoff dared to speak. "We-..." he took a deep breath. "We just joined this group. This is our first time in space. It took everything for our loved ones to get us offworld. So-...we could have a future."

The captain sheathed his vibrosword and stroked his thin beard. The plumes above his strange hat bobbed as he craned his head. "We saw ye from the viewport," he said. His voice was gritty and husky. "Ya put up quite a fight. But next time ya stage a mutiny, make sure ya got more men on your side." His crewmen cackled behind him.

"It wasn't a mut-" Kristoff started until Sven punched his arm. "Thanks for the save."

"First time in space, hm?" the captain inquired with widened blue eyes. "What better place to have a future than on the Black Pearl?"

"Sounds like we don't have much of a choice," Kristoff worried.

"No," the captain admitted. "Ya don't." He bit down on a meiloorun fruit while the monkey-lizard screeched from his shoulder. "Captain Barbossa," he introduced himself. "Welcome to the crew, lads."