The suns had dipped below the horizon, casting a cool shadow over the desert sands of Tatooine. Inside Ben's modest stone home, the temperature had finally settled into a comfortable warmth. The orange glow of the fire in the hearth bathed the room in a soft light, and the quiet crackling of the flames provided a soothing contrast to the chaos of Mos Eisley earlier that day.
Gine sat cross-legged on a woven mat near the fire, her gaze distant as she rocked Kakarot gently in her arms. Raditz played quietly in the corner, using a small stick to draw shapes in the sand that had blown through the door. Ben moved about the room, setting out a simple meal of preserved fruits and dried meat, but his attention kept flickering back to Gine.
She had been silent since they returned from Mos Eisley, her expression thoughtful and troubled. Ben didn't need to be a mind reader to know what weighed on her. He had seen the tension in her eyes, the way her gaze had darted around warily ever since the confrontation with the stormtroopers. He had warned her to be careful, to avoid drawing too much attention, and he could tell that his words had stayed with her.
As he sat down across from her, Ben studied her quietly for a moment before speaking. "You've been thinking about what happened in Mos Eisley, haven't you?" he asked, his tone gentle and understanding.
Gine looked up, startled by his sudden question, but she saw no judgment in his eyes—only a quiet curiosity. She hesitated, glancing down at Kakarot, who was now dozing peacefully in her arms. She let out a slow breath before nodding.
"Yes," she admitted quietly. "I've been thinking about it a lot. What I did… it wasn't exactly subtle, was it?" A rueful smile tugged at her lips, but it quickly faded. "You were right. I shouldn't have acted so recklessly."
Ben leaned back, his expression calm. "You did what you thought was right," he said simply. "There's no shame in that. But I also know that you're worried—worried about what it might mean if the Empire decides to look into it."
Gine's brow furrowed, her gaze distant. "Yes," she said softly. "I don't want to put my sons in danger. I've seen what people like those stormtroopers can do, and if they knew what I can do…"
Ben's eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued. He had seen Gine's firsthand strength—how she had thrown a fully armored stormtrooper to the ground like a ragdoll and deflected a blaster bolt with her bare hand. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before, and for a moment, he had wondered if she might be Force-sensitive. But as he watched her now, he realized that she was different—something else entirely.
"You did something remarkable," Ben said carefully, choosing his words. "Most people wouldn't have been able to throw a stormtrooper so easily. And deflecting a blaster bolt… that's not something a normal person can do."
Gine's cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked away, feeling exposed under his calm scrutiny. "I… I guess you're right," she said slowly. "But it's not anything special—at least, not where I come from."
Ben's curiosity deepened at that. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady. "What do you mean?" he asked gently. "What are you capable of, Gine? How were you able to do those things?"
For a moment, Gine hesitated. She had never explained her Saiyan heritage to anyone outside her own people, and the idea of sharing it now—especially with someone from a completely different galaxy—felt strange and uncomfortable. But Ben had been nothing but kind to her and her sons. He had taken them in, offered them shelter, and guided them when they were lost. She felt that she owed him the truth, especially after what he had seen.
Taking a deep breath, Gine looked up and met his gaze. "Well, as you know, I'm a Saiyan," she said simply, her voice steady. "It's… hard to explain, but where I come from, we're a warrior race. Fighting is in our blood. We're naturally gifted in battle—stronger, faster, and more resilient than most species."
Ben's eyes widened slightly, but he remained silent, absorbing her words calmly and attentively.
"Our strength comes naturally to us," Gine continued. "From the time we're young, we're trained to fight and conquer. It's just… what we do. But even among Saiyans, I'm considered a low-class warrior. My power isn't anything special compared to most of my people."
Ben's eyebrows rose at that, surprise flickering in his expression. "Low-class?" he repeated, disbelief coloring his tone. "But what you did back in Mos Eisley… that kind of strength would be unheard of here. If that's what you consider 'low-class,' then what are the others like?"
Gine's smile was faint, almost sad, as she remembered the fierce, brutal world of the Saiyan race. "There are those among us who are far stronger than I am," she said quietly. "The elites, the ones who are considered true warriors—they're on a completely different level. My power… my abilities… they're nothing compared to them. Bardock, my husband, was far stronger than I ever was. He was the true warrior in our family."
Ben listened closely, his expression thoughtful as he processed what she said. For a moment, he had thought that Gine might be a Jedi in hiding—one of the few who had escaped the purge. But her story didn't fit. There was no mention of the Force, no indication that she had any knowledge of Jedi ways. She was strong, yes—remarkably strong—but it seemed her power was something different. Something innate.
"It sounds like your people are… incredible," Ben said slowly, a note of wonder in his voice. "To be able to do what you did, and to call that 'low-class'… I can't imagine what the rest of your race was like."
Gine's eyes darkened slightly, and she looked down at Kakarot, who was still fast asleep in her arms. "My people were incredible," she said softly, her voice tinged with sorrow. But they were also… ruthless. Our strength made us proud, leading us to do terrible things. We were warriors and conquerors, and we lived for battle. It's why we were destroyed."
Ben's expression softened, a hint of sympathy crossing his face. He could hear the pain in her voice, the weight of loss that hung over her like a shadow. It was the pain of someone who had seen the worst of what power could bring, someone who had survived the destruction of everything she had ever known.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his tone gentle and sincere. "I can't imagine what it must have been like to lose your world… your people."
Gine's throat tightened, and she forced herself to nod. "I'm not proud of everything we did," she admitted. "But I loved my family. I loved Bardock, and I love my sons. I just… I want to protect them. I don't care about fighting or power. I just want them to have a chance."
Ben gave her a small, understanding smile. "You're doing everything you can," he said softly. "And that's more than enough."
Gine looked at him, surprised by the warmth in his voice. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt seen—not as a warrior or a Saiyan, but as a mother trying to protect her children. It was a feeling she hadn't known she needed.
"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice sincere.
Ben nodded, his expression calm but thoughtful. "I have to admit," he said after a moment, a hint of curiosity returning to his eyes, "when I first saw you in Mos Eisley, I wondered if you might be… something else. Someone connected to the Jedi, perhaps. But now I see that your power is different. It's… natural. A part of who you are."
Gine tilted her head slightly, intrigued by his words. "Jedi?" she repeated, unfamiliar with the term. "What's that?"
Ben hesitated, his gaze turning distant as if recalling a memory from long ago. "The Jedi were once guardians of peace in this galaxy," he said slowly. "They were warriors, but they fought to protect others, to maintain balance. They had abilities that went beyond normal understanding—strength, agility, and a connection to something called the Force, which allowed them to do things most people would consider impossible."
Gine listened closely, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. The way he spoke of the Jedi, with a mixture of admiration and sadness, made her wonder just how much he knew about them. Something in his voice—a sense of loss, of regret—made her think he had once been closer to them than he was letting on.
"But I'm not a Jedi," she said softly, though her words were almost questioning, as if seeking confirmation.
"No," Ben agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "No, you're not a Jedi. You're something else. Something remarkable."
Gine's cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked away, flattered and embarrassed by his words. "I'm just… me," she said quietly. "I'm just a mother trying to keep her sons safe."
Ben's smile widened, and he gave a small nod of agreement. "And that's what makes you strong," he said gently. "Never underestimate the power of a mother's love."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the crackling of the fire filling the room. Gine felt a sense of calm settles over her—a rare feeling in a world turned upside down. She still didn't know the future but knew she had an ally in Ben. He might not understand everything about her, and she certainly didn't understand everything about him, but for now, they were in this together.
And that was enough.
Lieutenant Kess sat stiffly behind his desk, the cold metal chair doing nothing to ease the knot of tension in his back. His normally organized desk was a mess of reports, data pads, and surveillance images, all gathered in the days since he had sent the report. The dimly lit room was filled with the hum of machinery, the low buzz of power flowing through the consoles and terminals surrounding him, but Kess focused entirely on the small communication device in his hand. It had been silent for hours—until now.
A soft beep echoed through the room, signaling an incoming message. Kess swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry, and pressed the button to open the transmission. A cold, metallic voice filled the room.
"Lieutenant Kess," the voice intoned, devoid of emotion. "This is Command. Your report has been reviewed. We have dispatched a response team to Tatooine."
Kess's heart skipped a beat, a chill running down his spine. "A response team, sir?" he asked, his voice tight.
"Correct," the voice continued. "Two Inquisitors have been assigned to investigate your report. They will arrive shortly. Prepare for their arrival and ensure that all local security measures are in place."
Kess felt his blood run cold. Two Inquisitors. That meant the Empire had taken his report seriously—serious enough to send only two of the Emperor's personal hunters. He had heard stories of the Inquisitors before, the ruthless agents who sought out and eliminated threats to the Empire, particularly any who might have ties to the Jedi. But to have two of them dispatched here, to Tatooine...
"Which Inquisitors have been assigned, sir?" Kess asked, his voice barely steady.
There was a brief pause, and then the cold voice answered, "The Seventh Sister and the Fifth Brother."
Kess's heart sank, his palms suddenly clammy with sweat. He had heard of them—the Seventh Sister and the Fifth Brother. They were among the most feared of the Inquisitors, known for their ruthlessness and efficiency. Their reputation for dealing with those who wasted their time was equally terrifying. If they found nothing here if they determined that Kess's report was unfounded...
He forced himself to speak, fighting to keep his voice even. "Understood, sir. I will make all necessary preparations."
"Good," the voice said with finality. "They are en route. Make sure the woman in your report is found, Lieutenant. The Empire does not tolerate failure."
The transmission ended with a click, leaving Kess in a suffocating silence. He sat there momentarily, staring at the communication device, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air thicker. He was on borrowed time now, and if he couldn't find that woman—the one who had deflected a blaster bolt with her bare hand—he was as good as dead.
With a sharp intake of breath, Kess pushed himself to his feet, his movements jerky with anxiety. He couldn't afford to hesitate. Too much was at stake, and the Inquisitors would be here soon. He strode toward the control room at the far end of the base, where his men were busy monitoring the feeds from Mos Eisley's security cameras.
"Doubling patrols isn't enough," Kess muttered to himself, his mind racing. "We need more eyes, more checkpoints. They need to know we're searching."
As he entered the control room, a young officer looked up from his console, his expression tense. "Lieutenant," he said, straightening in his seat. "Is everything alright, sir?"
"No, it's not," Kess snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. "We've received word from Command. Two Inquisitors are being dispatched to Tatooine in response to my report."
The officer's face paled, and Kess could see the fear in his eyes. He felt a grim satisfaction at his reaction—at least he wasn't the only one who understood the gravity of the situation.
"Sir," the officer said carefully, "do they believe… it's a Jedi?"
Kess hesitated for a moment before answering. "They're taking it seriously enough to send the Seventh Sister and the Fifth Brother," he said slowly. "That should tell you everything you need to know."
A murmur of nervous whispers spread through the room as the other officers overheard, their faces reflecting the same mix of fear and uncertainty that churned in Kess's stomach. He hated the feeling of not knowing, of uncertainty, but he knew one thing for certain: if he failed to deliver, he would pay with his life.
"We don't have much time," Kess said sharply, snapping the room back to attention. "I want every available unit deployed throughout Mos Eisley. Double the checkpoints—no, triple them. No one leaves or enters the city without being screened. I want a full lockdown on every district until we find that woman."
"But sir," another officer said, his voice hesitant. We've had increased patrols for the past three days and still haven't found anything. If she's still in the city, she's gone to ground."
"Then we dig deeper," Kess said through gritted teeth. "Use the security droids, question the locals—someone must have seen something. I don't care if we must interrogate every merchant and trader in the market. Find. Her."
The officer nodded quickly, returning to his console to issue the new orders. Kess felt a small, bitter sense of satisfaction as he watched his men scramble into action. He couldn't afford to let this slip through his fingers. If he didn't deliver results, the consequences would be far worse than a reprimand. He had seen what happened to officers who failed the Empire's expectations.
Hours ticked by, and the tension in the control room grew heavier with each passing moment. Kess paced back and forth, his eyes flicking between the various security feeds that displayed the streets of Mos Eisley, the checkpoints, and the patrols moving through the town. He had hoped for something—anything—that might give them a lead, but so far, every search had come up empty. The woman, whoever she was, had vanished without a trace.
He stopped at one of the larger screens, where a group of stormtroopers were setting up another checkpoint at the entrance to the market. The local traders looked annoyed, some of them muttering angrily under their breath as they were forced to show their identification and allow their goods to be searched. Kess could sense the unease in the air, the growing resentment of the locals at the increased Imperial presence. But he couldn't back down now. Not when the Inquisitors were on their way.
"Sir," one of the officers called out, his voice strained. "We've finished questioning the merchants in the central district. No one has seen anyone matching the description you gave."
Kess clenched his fists, frustration boiling inside him. "Then expand the search," he ordered, his voice tense. "Cover every corner of the city. If she's hiding somewhere, we will find her."
The officer nodded, but his eyes were filled with doubt. Kess couldn't afford to acknowledge it. He had to stay focused and believe that they would find the woman before the Inquisitors arrived. Otherwise, all of this would have been for nothing.
Night fell, and the desert sky turned a deep, inky blue. The stars shone bright overhead, casting a faint glow over the sandy streets of Mos Eisley. The city had quieted, the marketplace mostly deserted, save for a few stubborn traders and shady figures who prowled the darkened alleyways. The increased Imperial patrols continued their relentless search, stormtroopers moving in pairs as they questioned anyone who looked even remotely suspicious.
In his office, Kess sat at his desk, a data pad in hand, reviewing the latest reports from his officers. There had been no sign of the woman—no indication that she was still in Mos Eisley at all. He felt a cold, heavy weight settling in his chest, the certainty that he was running out of time.
Then, a soft chime echoed through the room—the familiar tone of an incoming transmission. Kess's breath caught in his throat, and he reached for the console with shaking hands, pressing the button to open the channel.
A cold, distorted voice filled the room, sending a shiver down his spine. "Lieutenant Kess, this is the Seventh Sister."
Kess's throat went dry. He swallowed hard, his voice barely steady as he replied, "Seventh Sister. I've been expecting your arrival. I—"
"You've failed to locate the woman in your report," the Seventh Sister interrupted, her tone icy and dismissive. "Your patrols have come up empty. Are you wasting our time, Lieutenant?"
Kess felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. "No, Inquisitor," he said quickly, his voice tight. "I have doubled the patrols, expanded the checkpoints, and questioned the locals. I am doing everything I can to locate her."
There was a long, tense silence, and Kess could almost feel the weight of her disdain through the comm channel. Then, another voice, deep and rumbling, cut through the silence.
"We will arrive soon, Lieutenant," the Fifth Brother said, his tone calm but with an undercurrent of menace. "And we will find this woman ourselves. If you have misled us… if this is a waste of our time… you will answer for it."
Kess's heart pounded in his chest, his mouth dry as he forced himself to respond. "I understand, Inquisitors. I will continue the search until you arrive. I will not fail."
"See that you don't," the Seventh Sister said coldly. The transmission ended with a sharp click, leaving Kess alone in the darkness of his office.
He let out a shaky breath, his hands gripping the edges of his desk as he tried to steady himself. The Inquisitors were coming, and if they didn't find the woman—if he couldn't prove that his report had merit—then everything he had done would be for nothing.
And he knew all too well what happened to those who wasted the time of the Inquisitors.
The twin suns of Tatooine were high in the sky, casting sharp shadows over the dusty streets of Mos Eisley. The heat was almost unbearable, but Gine pushed forward, her steps light and silent as she navigated the labyrinthine alleyways and narrow streets. This time, she was alone—no Ben by her side, no sons clinging to her for safety. They were back at Ben's home, where she knew they were safe and under his watchful eye. She trusted Ben; he had proven himself time and again to be a steady and reliable presence, but that didn't stop the nerves from tugging at her as she moved deeper into the bustling marketplace.
It had been a few days since the incident with the stormtroopers, and Gine's thoughts kept drifting back to that conversation she'd had with Ben before she left. She had been adamant about doing something to repay him, to show that she wasn't just a burden. His kindness, his guidance, and the way he had helped them without expecting anything in return—it had all meant more to her than she could put into words.
But she had caused trouble, too. Her reckless defense of the mother and child had drawn attention—Imperial attention—and Ben had been clear that this kind of attention was dangerous. He had offered to go with her again, but Gine's Saiyan pride wouldn't allow it. If she was going to repay him, if she was going to prove herself, then she needed to do it on her own. Ben had understood, reluctantly, and had given her a quiet nod when she insisted. "If this is something you must do," he'd said, "then do it. But be careful, Gine. This world has its own dangers."
And now here she was, walking through the streets of Mos Eisley with a sense of purpose that burned brighter than the suns above her. Her goal was simple: find work, earn credits, and build a better life for her sons. She was determined to find a way to give them something more than a life hidden away in the desert.
As she moved through the market, Gine couldn't help but notice the increased presence of stormtroopers patrolling the area. They moved in pairs and groups, their white armor reflecting the harsh sunlight and their blasters ready at their sides. Her heart sped up, and she kept her movements casual, blending into the crowd with ease. Thanks to her Saiyan agility, she could slip through the alleys and avoid the troopers effortlessly, ducking behind stalls or moving swiftly from shadow to shadow when needed. The stormtroopers were no match for her senses, her instincts honed by years of survival, even in a place as foreign as this.
Just as she turned down a quieter alley, a voice cut through the crowd's din. "Hey! You there!"
Gine's heart skipped a beat, and she froze, her instincts screaming to flee or fight. She turned slowly, keeping her expression neutral, and saw a man standing a few paces away. He was human, with a rugged, weather-beaten face and a loose-fitting jacket that looked like it had seen better days. His eyes were sharp, and there was a curious, almost amused smile playing on his lips.
"I've seen you before," he said, his tone casual but knowing. "A few days ago, in the market. You're the one who messed with the stormtroopers, aren't you?"
Gine's stomach tightened, and she felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of her neck. She kept her expression calm, but her mind was racing. Had she been found out? Was this man with the Empire?
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said coolly, folding her arms over her chest. Her eyes narrowed, studying the man carefully.
He chuckled, his smile widening as he took a step closer. "No need to play coy," he said, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "I saw what you did. You tossed one of those bucket-heads like he was nothing and deflected a blaster shot with your bare hand. Not something you see every day around here."
Gine's muscles tensed, and she resisted the urge to back away. This wasn't going the way she had planned. She had come to Mos Eisley to find a job, to earn credits quietly, not to draw attention. "If you know that," she said slowly, "then what do you want from me?"
The man's grin widened, and he crossed his arms, looking her up and down with a critical eye. "I think we might be able to help each other," he said smoothly. "You're strong—stronger than anyone I've seen in this backwater town. And I've got a job that could use someone with your... talents."
Gine's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "A job? What kind of job?"
"Nothing too complicated," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Just a little... retrieval mission. A package that needs picking up and might involve a little persuasion. Nothing you can't handle, especially with skills like yours."
"And why should I trust you?" Gine shot back, her voice firm. "For all I know, you're setting me up for the Empire."
The man's eyes flashed with amusement. "If I were with the Empire, I wouldn't be here, talking to you like this. Besides," he added, his voice lowering again, "I don't have any love for the Empire. Most people in Mos Eisley don't. But the job pays well, and you look like someone who could use some credits."
Gine hesitated; her instincts warned her to be careful, but there was something about the man's tone—something that suggested he wasn't lying. His clothing was ragged, like so many in this town, and he looked like someone who knew how to survive on the edge of things.
"How well does it pay?" she asked finally, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"Very well," he said, a note of triumph in his voice. "Enough to get you and whoever you're looking after out of this desert for good. You'll have to meet me later if you want the details, though. This isn't the place to discuss it."
Gine's mind raced, considering her options. The promise of enough credits to leave Tatooine behind was tempting—more tempting than she wanted to admit. But something still felt off. Why her? Why now? She needed more information before she committed to anything.
"Why me?" she asked, her voice steady. "Why do you want me for this job?"
The man shrugged a casual, almost careless gesture. "Because you're strong and because you don't look like the kind who'll get scared off if things get a little... complicated. Besides," he added, his eyes narrowing slightly, "you've already made an impression. Word gets around in a place like this, and not just among the Imperials. There are a lot of eyes and ears in Mos Eisley, and I've got a feeling you're not exactly from around here, are you?"
Gine felt a cold shiver run down her spine, but she kept her expression neutral. "Maybe I'm not," she said carefully. "But that doesn't mean I'm interested in whatever shady job you offer."
The man's smile didn't waver, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, round device that looked like some kind of communicator. He held it out to her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Take this," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "If you change your mind, contact me. We'll meet, and I'll tell you everything you need to know. It's your call."
Gine stared momentarily at the communicator, hesitating before taking it from his hand. Her fingers closed around the device, and she could feel its weight, cold and solid, in her palm. She didn't like being dragged into something she didn't fully understand, but the promise of a way out—a chance to give her sons a better life—was too hard to ignore.
"I'll think about it," she said finally, slipping the communicator into her pocket.
"That's all I'm asking," the man said with a wink. "Just think about it. You'll know where to find me if you decide you're interested."
He turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing into the crowd as quickly as he had appeared. Gine watched him go, her heart racing with excitement and uncertainty. She didn't know what she had just gotten herself into, but one thing was clear: the game had changed. She was no longer just surviving. She was making choices, taking risks—risks that could either save her family or put them in even greater danger.
As she turned and returned toward the quieter parts of the market, the communicator in her pocket felt heavier than ever. She would have to decide—soon—whether or not to take the man up on his offer.
But whatever she chose, she knew one thing for sure: she wouldn't stay in the desert forever. Her sons deserved a life better than this, and if this job was a way to provide that, then she was willing to take the risk.
Only time would tell if it was the right choice.
As she returned to Ben's home, she could hear the quiet murmur of Ben's voice, calm and steady, mingling with the soft giggles of Raditz and the babbling of baby Kakarot. The sound brought a faint smile to her lips, even as the anxiety twisted in her stomach. She pushed open the door and stepped inside, greeted by the sight of Ben sitting on the floor with Kakarot on his knee, and Raditz sprawled out on the mat, playing with a small wooden toy that Ben had carved for him.
Ben looked up as she entered, his expression calm but curious. "You're back," he said simply, his eyes studying her face with a knowing gaze. "How did it go in Mos Eisley?"
Gine swallowed, closing the door behind her and letting out a slow breath. She moved to sit down near the fire, the room's heat a stark contrast to the coolness settling outside. "It went… fine," she said carefully, trying to find the right words. "But something happened while I was there."
Ben's gaze remained steady, and he nodded for her to continue. "Go on," he said gently.
Gine reached into her pocket and pulled out the communicator, holding it up for Ben to see. His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of concern passing over his face as he recognized the device.
"I met someone," Gine said, her voice steady but tense. "He saw what I did to those stormtroopers the other day, and he… well, he offered me a job."
"A job?" Ben echoed, his brow furrowing. "What kind of job?"
"I don't know all the details," Gine admitted, setting the communicator down on the table between them. "But he said it pays well. Well, enough that I could earn enough credits to get my sons and me out of here. Maybe find a better life somewhere else." She hesitated, glancing down at the sleeping Kakarot in her arms, then back up at Ben. "And I don't want to be in your debt forever. You've done so much for us, and I don't want to be a burden. We've come so far to survive, and I need to do more for them. I need to find a way to give them something better."
Ben was silent for a long moment, his eyes flicking between Gine and the communicator. She could see the worry etched in the lines of his face, the way his lips pressed together as he considered her words. Finally, he sighed, setting Kakarot down gently beside Raditz, who was still engrossed in his play.
"Gine," he said slowly, his voice filled with a mixture of concern and understanding, "you don't owe me anything. I helped you because it was the right thing to do, not because I expected something in return. But this job… it sounds dangerous. You don't even know who this man is or what he wants from you."
"I know," Gine said, frustration creeping into her voice. "But what choice do I have? I can't keep hiding forever. I can't keep my sons hidden away in the desert for the rest of their lives. We need credits. We need a way out of here, and this is the first real opportunity I've had."
Ben's eyes softened slightly, but the concern remained. "I understand that," he said gently. "But you're talking about getting involved in something you don't understand, with people you don't know. People who might not have your best interests at heart. If you get caught up in something dangerous, what will happen to your sons?"
Gine looked down, her hands tightening into fists as she struggled to find the right words. "I don't know," she said honestly. "But I can't keep doing nothing. I don't want to be stuck here, scraping by, while the Empire grows stronger and the dangers keep closing in. I want to do something that matters. I want to give my sons a chance."
Ben watched her closely, his expression a mixture of sympathy and something else—something she couldn't quite read. He leaned back, his gaze never leaving hers. "I can't stop you," he said softly. "If this is something you feel you need to do, then I won't try to hold you back. But be careful, Gine. Don't let your pride blind you to the risks."
She nodded, grateful for his understanding, but the tension in her chest didn't ease. She had expected him to argue, to try to convince her not to go, but his calm acceptance made her resolve waver. "I don't want to leave you here either," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You've done so much for us, and I don't want you to be alone in this desert. If I do this—if I get enough credits to get off this planet—will you come with us? There's no reason you have to stay here. We could find somewhere better, somewhere safer."
Ben's expression softened, and he gave her a small, sad smile. "I appreciate the offer, Gine," he said, his voice gentle. "But my place is here. I have my own reasons for staying, and they're not something I can walk away from. There are things I need to do—obligations that keep me here."
Gine's brow furrowed in confusion, and she shook her head slightly. "Obligations? What kind of obligations could you have in a place like this? You're all alone out here, and you don't owe anyone anything."
Ben's smile grew wistful, and he looked away, his gaze drifting to the window, where the last rays of sunlight were fading into darkness. "It's complicated," he said quietly. "But there are things in this galaxy—people, places—that need watching over. I can't abandon my responsibilities, no matter how much I might wish for a different life. This desert… it's where I'm meant to be."
Gine felt sad at his words, realizing that there was more to Ben than she had ever known. He was carrying a burden—one that he clearly wasn't ready to share. She wanted to press him, to ask what he meant, but something in his expression told her that it wasn't the right time. Instead, she nodded slowly, accepting his decision, even if she didn't fully understand it.
"I wish you'd come with us," she said softly, her voice filled with sincerity. "You don't have to be alone. You don't have to stay in this place forever."
Ben's gaze returned to hers, and he reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "And you don't have to stay here either," he said gently. "You have your sons to think about, and you're doing what you believe is right for them. That's enough. Just promise me one thing—whatever choice you make, do it with your eyes open. Don't let desperation cloud your judgment."
Gine swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle over her like a heavy blanket. "I promise," she said quietly. "I'll be careful. I'll make sure I know what I'm getting into."
Ben nodded, his eyes filled with a quiet understanding. "Then that's all I can ask for," he said softly. "Whatever happens, I'll be here if you need me. You're not alone, Gine. Remember that."
She felt a surge of gratitude at his words and managed a small, determined smile. "Thank you," she said, her voice steady for everything. I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm not going to give up—not now, not after everything we've been through."
Ben gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before letting his hand drop. "I know you won't," he said with a faint smile. "You're stronger than you realize, Gine. Whatever you decide, I believe you'll make the right choice."
They sat silently for a while, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. Gine's mind raced with thoughts of the offer she had received, the risks, and the rewards. She thought of her sons—of Raditz's bright eyes and Kakarot's innocent smile. She couldn't let them down. She wouldn't let them down.
But the decision was hers, and hers alone. And as she watched the firelight dance in Ben's eyes, she knew that whatever came next, she had to be ready for it.
No matter the cost.
The cold desert air wrapped around the Imperial outpost as night settled over Tatooine. The stars above shone brightly against the inky black sky, their light lost in the darkness that enveloped the surrounding sands. A cold, unsettling silence filled the base, broken only by the occasional metallic clank of droids patrolling the perimeter. Lieutenant Kess stood on the landing pad, the anticipation and dread twisting in his gut like a tightening coil.
His eyes were locked on the night sky, watching for the faintest sign of movement. He had prepared the outpost meticulously for the arrival of the Inquisitors—doubling patrols, setting up checkpoints throughout Mos Eisley, and ordering his men to work around the clock to find any trace of the woman who had evaded them for days. But nothing had turned up. She had vanished as if she had never been there, and now, the Inquisitors were coming.
His hands were clenched tightly behind his back, his palms clammy with sweat despite the chill. If they failed, if they found nothing, he knew it would be his head on the line. He had heard too many stories about the Seventh Sister and the Fifth Brother to believe otherwise. They were ruthless and merciless, the Emperor's personal enforcers when it came to hunting down threats to the Empire.
A faint hum broke the silence, growing louder with each passing second. Kess's breath caught in his throat as he saw it—a sleek black shuttle descending from the sky, its wings folding upward as it prepared to land. The shuttle's engines roared, kicking up a cloud of dust as it touched down on the landing pad, the hiss of hydraulic systems echoing through the night. Kess stepped back, his spine ramrod straight, his heart pounding in his chest.
The landing ramp lowered with a metallic clang, and two figures emerged, their dark silhouettes framed by the dim light of the outpost. The Seventh Sister moved first, her lithe form cloaked in black armor that shimmered with a dull metallic sheen. Her helmet obscured most of her face, but Kess could see the cold, calculating eyes that glinted beneath it. Beside her stood the Fifth Brother, taller and broader, his armor bulky and imposing. His expression was a mask of disdain, the deep lines of his face casting harsh shadows in the dim light.
Kess swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his composure as the Inquisitors approached. He snapped to attention, his voice barely steady. "Inquisitors. Welcome to Tatooine. I—"
The Seventh Sister cut him off with a cold, mocking laugh. "Spare me the pleasantries, Lieutenant," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You'd better have a good reason for dragging us to this wretched planet. The Empire doesn't dispatch Inquisitors for nothing."
Kess flinched at the harshness in her tone, but he held his ground. "I submitted a report, Inquisitor," he said, his voice strained but firm. "A woman in Mos Eisley displayed abilities that are… unnatural. She deflected a blaster bolt with her bare hand, and I believe—"
"You believe?" The Fifth Brother's voice was a deep, rumbling growl that cut through Kess's explanation. He stepped closer, looming over the lieutenant like a predator stalking its prey. "Do you realize what happens to those who waste our time, Lieutenant? You're not the first officer to claim they've found a Jedi, and most of them end up dead when they're proven wrong."
Kess's face went pale, and he took an involuntary step back. "I-I understand, Inquisitor," he stammered, his heart hammering in his chest. "But I'm certain. The woman's strength was far beyond what is normal. She overpowered two stormtroopers with ease, and one of them reported that she deflected a blaster shot with her hand. It's not something any ordinary person could do."
The Seventh Sister's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing through him like a knife. "And yet," she said slowly, her voice dangerously soft, "you've failed to locate this woman, haven't you? Despite all your increased patrols, checkpoints, and desperate efforts, she's vanished without a trace."
Kess's mouth went dry, and he forced himself to meet her gaze. "We've been searching tirelessly, Inquisitor. The increased patrols have kept watch on every corner of Mos Eisley, but the woman has gone into hiding. If she's truly capable of what I saw, she may be more cunning than I anticipated."
The Fifth Brother snorted in disdain, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Pathetic," he muttered. "You've had days to find her, and you have nothing to show for it but excuses."
Kess felt a surge of desperation, his pride warring with his fear. He had worked tirelessly to comb through every part of Mos Eisley, to squeeze every bit of information from reluctant locals, but it hadn't been enough. He was running out of time.
The Seventh Sister took a step closer, her presence icy and oppressive. "Listen to me, Lieutenant," she said, her tone turning deadly serious. "We didn't come to this miserable rock to chase after rumors. We came here because you claimed to have found something that might interest the Empire—a Jedi or someone like them. If you're wrong, if this is just another wild chase, you'll be lucky if a demotion is all you get. Do you understand me?"
Kess's blood went cold, and he nodded quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, Inquisitor. I understand."
The Fifth Brother's lip curled in a sneer. "Then you'd better hope we find this woman. Because if we don't…" He let the threat hang in the air, his eyes narrowing to slits. Kess felt his throat tighten, and he dared not move or speak.
"Show us the area where the incident occurred," the Seventh Sister commanded, her voice all business now. "I want to see exactly where this supposed encounter took place. Every detail, every report, every witness you've questioned. We're not leaving here until we get answers."
"Of course," Kess said, his voice hoarse with tension. "Follow me."
He led the way through the outpost, his hands clasped tightly behind his back to hide their trembling. The Inquisitors followed in silence, their presence oppressive and suffocating. Kess could feel their eyes boring into his back, and every step felt like it was dragging him closer to a noose.
They reached the surveillance room, and Kess gestured to the screens lining the wall. "This is where we've been monitoring the feeds from Mos Eisley," he explained, his voice wavering slightly. "The stormtroopers were patrolling the central market when they encountered the woman. I've compiled a report with all the details we gathered from the witnesses, though most were reluctant to speak."
The Seventh Sister stepped closer to the screens, her eyes scanning the various camera angles with a cold, analytical gaze. "Play the footage from the patrol," she ordered sharply.
Kess nodded, his fingers moving over the controls with practiced precision. The screen flickered, and grainy black-and-white footage of the stormtroopers' patrol filled the room. Kess's heart pounded as he watched the encounter unfold—the moment the woman stepped into view, confronting the troopers, her movements swift and decisive. She had thrown one to the ground and deflected a blaster bolt with her hand before the troopers retreated in fear.
The Seventh Sister's eyes narrowed as she watched, her expression unreadable. She glanced over at the Fifth Brother, who remained silent, his face a mask of concentration. There was a long, tense silence as they watched the scene play out.
"So," the Seventh Sister said slowly, turning to face Kess. "You have no idea who she is, no name, no traceable identity, and no way to track her down?"
Kess swallowed hard, his mouth dry. "We questioned everyone in the area," he said carefully. "No one knew her, and the descriptions we gathered were inconsistent. Some claimed she was from off-world, others said she was local. She's a ghost."
The Fifth Brother's eyes flashed with irritation. "A ghost? Or are you simply incompetent, Lieutenant?"
Kess flinched but forced himself to stand his ground. "We're doing everything we can, Inquisitor," he said, his voice firmer now. "But Mos Eisley is a wretched hive of scum and villainy. People here don't talk to the Empire unless they're forced to. If she's in hiding, it won't be easy to find her."
The Seventh Sister's lips twisted into a mocking smile. "Then perhaps you should have tried harder," she said coldly. "We'll be handling this search ourselves from now on. Your men will assist us, but make no mistake—if you've led us here on false pretenses, you will regret it."
Kess's blood froze, and he nodded quickly. "Understood, Inquisitor," he said, his voice barely steady. "I'll do everything I can to help you find her."
"See that you do," the Fifth Brother growled, his eyes narrowing with barely restrained fury. "We'll begin our search at first light. And if she's still in this town, we will find her."
Kess's hands were shaking as he watched the Inquisitors turn away, their dark forms disappearing into the shadows of the base. He let out a shaky breath, feeling the crushing weight of his failure settle over him like a suffocating blanket. He had to find the woman. He had to prove that he was right.
Because if he didn't, the Inquisitors would ensure that he never saw the light of day again.
Well, the Inquisitors have finally landed on Tatooine, and they are all ready to hunt down Gine. I mean, good luck with that, right? 😅 They have no idea what they're up against—she could probably flick them across the desert if she wanted! The Empire thinks they've got a threat, but if only they knew they were chasing someone who's in a whole different power level.
And then there's that mysterious job offer. Who is this person, and what could they possibly want with Gine? I have a feeling things are about to get even more interesting! I can't wait to see where this goes!