Aoi Dragon: I'm not surprised that no one has really read this story. Soulmate stories tend to be looked down upon because the OC tends to get into the pants of the canon character pretty much right away. I'm trying not to do that because I personally like slow burn stories. Still, I wrote this for me. It's technically a rough draft (even though it's at least the fifth version of the story as I ran through ideas on how to portray the soulmate connection without making it too powerful or too corny). Anyway, if anyone is reading this, I'm happy you're here! Please enjoy reading my story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
C*
At first, even navigating the bustling markets felt impossible, the unfamiliar scents and alien chatter a constant reminder of how far from home she was. She immersed herself in the advanced technology of the Star Wars universe, recognizing echoes of devices she'd seen in the films but now learning their true complexity. She was determined to learn to read and write, so she began teaching herself how to read Aurebesh, with a little help from Zog.
Krefek helped her secure a job at a food market, and she became familiar with the various foods and spices that came from around the galaxy. She also learned that the Pykes, the native species of the planet, had an iron grip on the people in Oba Diah City, the capital of the planet by the same name. They were also one of the main crime syndicates of the galaxy along with the Hutts and several others.
Despite the challenges, Heather found herself slowly adjusting, marveling at the alien but strangely beautiful rhythm of life on Oba Diah. She had made friends with some of the other humans on the planet, found a job, and Krefek insisted that she stay in his apartment in his spare bedroom.
Krefek had been very understanding of her confusion and fear when she first arrived on Oba Diah. The Wookiee was a formidable figure at seven-foot-tall, but his gentle demeanor and love of cooking quickly disarmed Heather. They bonded over food and their love for music, sharing meals infused with spices Heather could barely pronounce and harmonizing to melodies that made her feel both homesick and comforted.
Heather introduced Krefek to Earth songs, crooning tunes from her childhood like "Hey Jude," which made the Wookiee hum along curiously. Krefek, in turn, showed her some of the music from his homeworld of Kashyyyk, playing a haunting melody on his modified Kalyx flute. They spent many evenings like this, enjoying each other's company and learning about their respective cultures.
Heather was grateful for Krefek's patience and kindness. She still had her moments of homesickness and longing for Earth, but the Wookiee's presence made those feelings less intense. As she learned more about the Star Wars universe and the people in it, she began to accept that this was her new reality.
Despite Heather's new life, the Soul Sentence remained a constant reminder that this was a strange universe and wasn't like the one she had seen in the movies. She would sometimes trace the Aurebesh letters of Poe Dameron's name with her finger, a mix of longing and guilt knotting in her chest. Was this destiny or a cruel joke from the universe? On one hand, it represented a connection with someone out there in the vast galaxy who shared her interests and passions. On the other hand, it felt intrusive and unfair; it felt like fate was playing tricks on her. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was betraying someone or something by embracing this new reality.
Three months into her new life, Heather had grown accustomed to the rhythm of Oba Diah, but an encounter with the Pykes' brutality shattered her fragile sense of safety. In a dimly lit alley, where the smell of Spice and decay clung to the air like a suffocating shroud, Heather walked home from working the afternoon shift at Dobrack's Exotic Foods when she heard a fight going on down a side street. Heather hesitated, not knowing whether she should go and investigate or continue about her business.
As Heather approached the source of the commotion, she saw a group of three Pykes surrounding a young human boy. The boy was struggling against the grip of the Pykes, who were laughing and taunting him. Without thinking, Heather rushed forward, shouting, "Hey! Let the kid go and pick on someone your own size!"
The largest Pyke loomed over her, his dark, angular features illuminated by the dim light of the alley. He growled something in Huttese.
She blinked, not understanding the language, but she stood her ground. The boy reminded her of her younger brothers, and she'd always been a protective big sister, "He's just a kid. Are you really such cowards that you would attack a child?"
This didn't seem to impress the Pykes, as they laughed cruelly, their voices echoing off the dirty alley walls. The lead Pyke stepped closer, reaching out with a clawed hand towards her. Heather didn't know what to do.
Her mind raced as she scanned her surroundings—a garbage can, a broom, a pile of crates. None of it felt sufficient, but she had no choice. She grabbed the lid to use as a shield and picked up the broom to use as some kind of weapon. The lead Pyke stopped his advance and eyed Heather warily as she stood her ground, clutching the broom and lid defensively. The other Pykes moved back, their interest in the fight waning as their leader's focus shifted to the new threat.
The boy, who was injured and bleeding, but not unconscious, looked up at her. "Run!" She yelled to him, "Get out of here!"
The boy nodded, looking visibly scared but determined as he turned and bolted from the alley. Heather took a deep breath, bracing herself for an attack from the Pykes.
The lead Pyke finally moved, stepping towards Heather slowly.
'Better me than the kid.' Heather thought, knowing that she was going to get beaten up. Still, she had her garbage can shield and her broomstick lance. They wouldn't last long, but they might do some damage.
The lead Pyke lunged forward, his clawed hand reaching for her, but Heather was ready. She swung the broomstick at him, aiming for his arm. The Pyke's reflexes were sharp, and he easily batted the broomstick aside with his other hand.
Her makeshift weapons bought her only moments as the Pykes overwhelmed her with brutal efficiency. They overwhelmed her, claws slashing at her clothes and skin as she struggled to defend herself.
She struck out wildly with the broomstick handle, smacking some of the Pykes, but doing little to no damage. The garbage can lid had long gotten flung away. In a last-ditch effort to escape, Heather dropped the broomstick and ran. The Pykes gave chase, their superior speed and agility allowing them to quickly catch up to her. It felt like the end. Heather ran, her heart pounding in her chest, her lungs burning from the exertion. She could hear the Pykes closing in behind her, their footsteps echoing against the grimy walls of the alley.
She was so close to home. Heather could feel blood running down her arm from the raking scratches the Pykes had caused. As she got close to home, With a desperate roar in Shyriiwook, she shouted for help, praying Krefek would hear her.
Krefek's roar thundered through the alley, silencing the night like a storm rolling in, and Heather felt a surge of relief as the towering Wookiee charged toward her, a blur of fur and fury. As he arrived, he saw her being chased by three Pykes. Krefek charged at them, bellowing his own challenge in Shyriiwook. The Pykes stopped their pursuit of Heather and turned to face Krefek. The Wookiee's presence alone was enough to make the Pykes pause in their pursuit of the human woman. Krefek stood his ground, growling defiantly as he eyed the alien beings warily.
The Pykes, realizing they were outmatched, retreated into the darkness of the alleyways. Krefek turned towards Heather, who was lying on the ground, panting and breathing heavily.
"Heather... are you alright?" Krefek asked, his voice deep and concerned. He gently picked her up, cradling her in his massive arms like a baby. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and admiration.
"You came."
Krefek rumbled softly, a sound that vibrated through Heather's entire body.
Despite being injured and scared, Heather could feel a strange warmth emanating from the Wookiee. It was comforting and oddly familiar. Krefek helped her up and led her back to their apartment.
Once inside, Krefek tended to Heather's wounds, using makeshift bandages to stop the bleeding and clear away the dirt and grime. Heather watched in amazement as the Wookiee seemed to instinctively know what he was doing.
"What you did was brave," Krefek murmured through Zog's translations, "but unwise."
Heather looked up at him, her eyes wide with confusion. "I couldn't just let them hurt that boy," she said, wincing as Krefek dabbed at a particularly deep cut on her arm. "It's not right."
Krefek rumbled softly, his expression unreadable. "I know."
"It's not fair," she repeated, her voice trembling with anger. "How can they hold so much power and use it to crush people instead of helping them? It makes me sick." Heather clenched her hands into fists.
"You do not know the history," Krefek said as he applied a bacta patch to a bruise on her side. "They were nearly wiped out when the humans came and settled here. When they were finally strong enough to fight back, they took their planet and created their Pyke Crime Syndicate to compete with and sometimes work alongside the Hutts."
Heather listened to Krefek's story intently, trying to make sense of the situation. "But the kid, they almost killed him. That's not right!"
"They fear humans," Krefek explained, "believe they are a threat to their way of life."
Krefek's words made Heather's blood boil. It was clear that the Pykes needed to be stopped, and she was determined to do something about it. But how? They were powerful and ruthless, and she was just a lone human woman with no real combat training.
"I wish there was something we could do," Heather looked down at her wounds. "The Pykes should not blame current residents for what their ancestors did. An eye for an eye makes the whole world, the whole galaxy, blind."
"That's a wise saying," Krefek acknowledged. "But change doesn't come easily to the galaxy." He looked down at her injuries, frowning slightly. "Let me get some more bacta patches for those deeper cuts."
Heather nodded, wincing as Krefek applied more bacta patches to her wounds. She couldn't help but think about what he'd said about change. It was true; the galaxy was a vast and complex place, with countless beings and planets vying for power and control. But she wasn't going to give up hope. Not when there was so much at stake. She looked up at Krefek, her resolve steadfast. "We have to try," she said softly.
"For now, keep your head down," Krefek murmured, his deep voice tinged with worry. "You're brave, Heather, but bravery without caution will get you killed."
Heather's eyes widened in fear at the thought of the Pykes targeting her again. She knew she had to be careful, but it was hard to resist the feeling of injustice and the need to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. "I understand." She said softly, "Thank you for your concern. But I can't just stand by and watch innocent people get hurt."
Krefek looked at Heather, his expressive eyes full of concern. "They are powerful and ruthless," he rumbled softly, "and your safety should be your top priority. Trust me when I say that they have a long memory and will not forget if you cross them."
Heather understood Krefek's caution, but the memory of the boy's terrified face haunted her. How could she stay silent in the face of such injustice? She had to try to make a difference, even if it meant facing dangerous adversaries like the Pykes.
Eight months of Pyke oppression had fueled Heather's anger and a growing sense of helplessness. She'd witnessed firsthand the suffering – spice everywhere, people broken, and no way to stop it. Each day bled into the next: work, meals, sleep, endless frustration. Nights offered a brief respite. She'd climb to the rooftop, often with Krefek by her side, finding solace beneath the moonlight. It reminded her of Earth – summer nights, rain on concrete, blue skies. Sometimes, tears blurred the light, but soon resolve took over. She couldn't afford to wallow. She had to act.
Tonight, Krefek was working late, leaving her alone with her thoughts. The moonlight seemed to call to her, something deep within stirring. Could her isekai experience make a difference here? Could she summon something powerful enough to help?
Standing at the edge, she whispered, "Khonshu." It was a desperate gamble, but Heather was tired of being powerless. She wanted to protect the weak and fight back against the Pykes.
"Khonshu," she called again, her voice a soft plea, "This place is a wretched hive of scum and villainy. If you can hear me, help me stop it."
A chill swept over the rooftop. Shadows twisted unnaturally, and a figure emerged from the darkness – tall, skeletal, raven-like, with eyes that swallowed the light. Khonshu stepped forward, his staff tapping the stone. His alabaster skull glinted in the moonlight. "You call upon me, mortal?" His voice was deep, filled with disdain. "Speak quickly, or your hubris will cost you dearly."
Heather sank to her knees, disbelief in her eyes. "You... came? I didn't think you were real."
Khonshu tilted his head. "Do you think myths are mere fiction? The light of my moon is no bauble in your sky." He loomed larger, the air around him thick with his presence. "You tremble, yet you dared summon me. Why? Vengeance, justice, or just a fool's cry to the heavens?"
Heather shivered, struggling to find words. "I didn't expect you to look like this. In the myths, you... were more human-like." She paused. "I... Thank you for answering."
Khonshu's form stretched against the moonlight, his voice cold. "A lich, you say? Fitting." His staff scraped the rooftop. "You ask me to join a battle against eternal evil. What makes you think your mortal means can defeat such darkness? Why should I lend you my power?"
Heather met his gaze, unwavering. "I don't need power. I need someone who understands both light and dark. The Resistance, the Force—they're fading. Maybe what's needed is something sharper."
Khonshu studied her silently. "You speak with conviction, mortal. Rare, but not unheard of. The galaxy reeks of imbalance. Perhaps it lies not in pure light or shadow, but in the edge between." He circled her, his staff dragging behind. "What will you do when this galaxy turns its back on you, as humanity did on Earth? When those you protect revile you, as they did my avatars? Will your resolve endure, or crumble like so many before you?"
Heather's voice was steady. "If they turn their backs, I'll keep protecting them from the shadows. Evil doesn't vanish because people ignore it. Justice doesn't cease when it's rejected. I don't need recognition—just a better future." She scoffed. "I know it sounds idealistic, but when true justice prevails, everyone benefits."
She met his gaze again. "I may not have the skills you're used to, but I'm willing to learn."
Khonshu's low chuckle was mocking. "How quaint. You speak as if this is some noble crusade. You seek no recognition, yet you fight for a cause others will scorn. Do you think those you protect will thank you when they forget your name?"
His tone softened but remained cold. "Justice isn't about ideals. It's the weight of broken bones, the blood spilled in pursuit of retribution. Power comes not from noble thoughts—but from inflicting pain, reminding others of their weakness."
Khonshu stepped closer, his shadow darkening. "You claim to know the future of this universe, but what happens when your predictions fail? The only certainty is action."
He circled her again. "You may be inexperienced, but you're willing to learn. I will not mold you into something you're not. You will be my weapon, not my disciple. Your resolve will determine your worth—not your ideals."
Heather's eyes narrowed. "Doesn't a sword need sharpening? Doesn't a blaster need cleaning to work properly? I know what you think of your avatars."
She turned toward Oba Diah City and back to him. "The Pyke Syndicate rules here. This planet was colonized, and they take their anger out on the descendants of those colonizers. If I become your weapon, this would be a good place to start. A test against a small part of the darkness before we face the greater threat."
Khonshu studied her carefully. "Refining a blade doesn't soften it. A sharp edge slices flesh, leaves blood behind. A weapon must be wielded by one who knows what they're willing to sacrifice."
He moved closer, his presence suffocating. "The Pykes are a cancer. But do you understand what it means to confront them? This is no small challenge. Once you walk this path, there's no turning back."
The silence stretched. "Vengeance and justice come with a price. You'll pay for them with your soul."
Khonshu's voice darkened. "You speak of vengeance as if it's sweet, but it will change you. You will become what you despise. The question isn't whether you can fight—it's whether you can survive what you'll become."
Heather grew quiet, her gaze distant. "I don't belong here. I'm the only Earthling in this universe. I am... alone." Her fingers brushed the Soul Sentence on her forearm. "For the most part." She looked up at Khonshu, her eyes firm. "My death would mean little. This universe has its own heroes."
Khonshu's gaze was cold and unblinking, his presence growing heavier by the second. After a long pause, his voice cut through the silence, as sharp as ice. "I know what it is to be alone. You may be a speck in the universe, but even that can ignite fires across galaxies. Your death may mean little to others, but what does that matter to you?"
He stepped closer, his presence like an anvil pressing down on her. "You believe you're alone, but you're not. You summoned me from the darkest corners of the multiverse—that carries weight. It's not the universe's heroes that matter, but the choices you make and their consequences."
His voice softened, still cold. "Loneliness cuts deeper than any blade. You seek to protect the weak and topple the powerful, but I am no savior. With me, you'll find no solace—only the harsh, unyielding truth of the cosmos. If you choose this path, you must embrace the darkness."
Khonshu's gaze sharpened. "You say your death means nothing, but you have a choice: remain a fleeting speck, or forge a legacy that echoes across the galaxy long after you're gone."
He paused, his eyes locking onto hers. "The decision is yours."
Heather hesitated, torn by Khonshu's harsh nature. She needed more. She couldn't let herself be swept away by temptation. Power this great could corrupt, and she wasn't blind to the dangers of becoming a monster under Khonshu's rule.
"I wish to help people, to give them the justice they deserve. And for those who are suffering or dead, I want vengeance on those who harmed them. I have no power of my own, and while power corrupts, I'm not afraid to seek guidance from those wiser than me." She took a deep breath. "I'm terrified of what this could mean for me, my soul, and my morals. But true bravery is facing your fears and overcoming them. So, Khonshu, Egyptian god of the moon, the night sky, and vengeance, what are your terms, conditions, and expectations?"
Khonshu's cold, calculating gaze never wavered. A dark gleam of amusement flickered in his gaze.
"You speak of justice, vengeance, and power," he said, his voice low and smooth. "You speak of bravery, yet you're still uncertain. Of course, you're terrified." He savored her fear. "Bravery doesn't exist without fear. Fear can either hold you back or drive you forward."
Khonshu's presence grew more imposing as his fingers curled in the air, tracing unseen paths. "I do not give power freely, Heather. You will not receive my aid simply because you desire it. I will test you. Push you to your limits. I will bend you to my will, as I have with others before you. In return, you will have the strength, the power, the vengeance to act when others falter."
"Power, as you rightly pointed out, corrupts. But power, wielded with purpose, can change fate. I will teach you to sharpen that blade. You will serve as my instrument of vengeance and justice. The price will be steep. You will be bound to me. My words will guide you, my will will shape you, and my judgment will be your sword."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"But understand this, Heather," Khonshu's voice deepened, unwavering. "Your soul—your essence—will be tied to mine. You will carry the mark of the moon, always. The power will change you, as it has changed all who came before you. You will not remain the same. The fear and doubt will not vanish, but they will sharpen your focus. You will grow stronger with each trial. And when the time comes for you to face your greatest enemies, I will stand by your side." His eye sockets locked onto hers, ancient and unyielding. "But only if you accept."
He leaned closer, the air growing colder, darker. "The choice is yours, Heather. Reject me, and you remain as you are—an outsider in a foreign world. Accept, and you will have the power to reshape the fate of those around you. What will it be?"
The silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of his words. Khonshu's gaze never wavered, awaiting her decision.
Heather stood tall, her heart pounding. She needed more. She couldn't let herself be swept away by temptation. Power this great could corrupt, and she wasn't blind to the dangers of becoming a monster under Khonshu's rule.
"I understand the cost of power," she said, her voice steady but firm. "But I can't make this decision blindly. I need to know that I won't lose myself in the process. I can't be a puppet, pulled by strings I don't understand. If I'm to be your Moon Knight, I need to know how you make decisions, how you see the world, and how I can balance vengeance with justice. How can I remain true to myself while serving you?"
She paused, locking eyes with him. Despite his overwhelming presence, her gaze didn't falter. "I don't want to be lost in the shadows, Khonshu. I need communication, guidance, and understanding. How do you see the world? How will you help me avoid becoming a weapon of destruction instead of one of justice?"
Khonshu's expression darkened, his gaze piercing. For a moment, his demeanor softened, a fraction of the god he had once been, but it vanished quickly, replaced by his imposing air.
"You are bold," he rumbled, his voice laced with something like respect. "Many before you have sought to bargain with me. Few have succeeded. Fewer still have maintained their will under the weight of my judgment."
He paused, assessing her carefully. The wind swirled around them, as if heralding a storm. "You seek understanding before obedience. A rare request. Many of my avatars acted purely on instinct, driven to action without thought. But you... You are different. And that may very well be the reason you will survive where others failed."
Khonshu stepped closer, his presence nearly overwhelming. "I will allow this," he said, voice a mix of command and invitation. "You will not blindly follow. But know this, Heather: there will be times when you must act without the luxury of consultation. The darkness will not wait for your understanding. The enemy will not offer explanations. Your ability to make swift decisions with conviction will determine your success."
His tone grew heavier. "If you serve me, you will face challenges. You will learn quickly, act decisively, and understand the consequences of your actions. And yes," he added sharply, "you may seek guidance, but do not mistake me for a counselor. I will not coddle you. If you seek answers, you must earn them."
The moonlight grew brighter as Khonshu's voice became colder. "You will have the knowledge and the power, but you must wield them wisely. I will shape you, but you will also shape your path, as long as it aligns with my will. Fail, and there will be no mercy."
He paused, narrowing his eyes, perhaps in approval. "Very well, Heather. You may take the Moon Knight vows, and I will guide you. But know this: you will be bound to me. Forever."
The air thickened with the weight of his words, the night holding its breath. "Now, make your decision," Khonshu said, his voice final. "Will you accept this power, with all its cost? Or will you turn your back and remain as you are—an outsider, lost in a galaxy that cares not for you?"
The time had come. There was no going back. Heather knelt before Khonshu, her voice steady and resolute. "The galaxy doesn't have to care about me for me to want to help. I live here now, and I will do what I must to ensure its survival, balanced on the knife's edge between light and dark. I don't want to be coddled or babied. I don't need every tiny detail of a mission, as if I could fully understand divine reasoning."
A brief, determined smile flickered across her lips as she bowed her head. "I, Heather Davis, pledge myself to Khonshu, Egyptian god of the moon, the night sky, and of vengeance. I pledge my loyalty to you and shall follow your directives to protect the innocent, as defined by universally accepted standards of morality and justice in this galaxy. Should I hesitate, I will seek clarification, but I will know that your word is final. I wish to protect the travelers of the night and bring your vengeance upon those who harm them. Please accept my petition to be your avatar, to be your Moon Knight, so that I may have the power to help the helpless, vanquish the darkness, and bring light to the galaxy once more."
Khonshu regarded Heather for a long moment, his piercing gaze scanning her bowed form. The silence was thick with the weight of her pledge. He measured her resolve, weighing her soul beneath the cold, unwavering light of the night sky.
Finally, his deep voice broke the stillness, rumbling like distant thunder. "You have made your choice." The finality in his tone was unmistakable. His gaze softened, just a fraction, as he recognized the sincerity in her words—the unwavering steadiness of her heart.
The air around them pulsed with power. The moon above gleamed brighter than ever, as if acknowledging the bond between them. Khonshu stepped forward, his form towering over her. His long, bony fingers reached out, and in one swift, deliberate motion, he pressed them to her forehead.
In an instant, the world around her blurred, the rooftop dissolving into nothingness. A surge of energy flooded through her, raw and ancient—an elemental force that flowed deeper than blood, as if the very essence of the moon itself coursed through her veins. The power was not merely physical—it was a profound, binding connection to something far older, far more powerful than she could have ever imagined. Khonshu's presence consumed her mind, his voice thundering like a distant storm.
You are mine, Heather Davis. And I am yours. You will walk the line between light and dark, carrying my vengeance and my justice. The path ahead is uncertain, and the darkness will be fierce, but you will not falter. You are my Moon Knight.
The words burned into her soul, an indelible mark, a pact forged under the cold, eternal gaze of the moon. Heather's body trembled with the intensity of the transformation, but she remained steady, her resolve unbroken.
As she stood, the strength of the moon flowed through her. From the shadows, bands of white linen cloth emerged, spiraling around her like a cocoon. The fabric tightened, molding to her form, hardening into a sleek, protective suit. A golden crescent moon adorned the breastplate, gleaming with an ethereal glow.
Her eyes blazed with silver-white light as the mask took shape, covering her face, leaving only her glowing eyes visible. A hood draped over her head, casting her face in shadow. Behind her, a crescent moon cape unfurled, its edges shimmering with a celestial radiance.
The transformation was complete.
Heather took a deep breath, the weight of her new role settling over her. "I am ready, Khonshu," she declared, her voice firm and resolute. "What is our first task?"