BOOM!

"What's happening?!" A woman's terrified voice echoed through the cramped, dimly lit freighter car. Wyb's heart pounded as he looked around confused. He was eight again, trapped on the slaver's transport.

No, no no, not this again, Wyb thought. He hadn't had nightmares for years, but here it was again back to haunt him.

"They're here," the young girl beside him whispered, her voice sharp with an unnatural calm. Everyone in the car fell silent, as the door swung open with a violent crash. Enter Jord.

"Sorry folks. Hope you don't mind but we're taking a detour. It's gonna be a tight fit.'"

Wyb tried to shout. If he could speak he would wake. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"We'll manage!" Lenore's voice rang out. "Quickly, we don't have much time."

"Mind the gap," Jord called, motioning for the others to move swiftly. Wyb tried to move, to do something—anything—but was frozen in place.

"Come on kid! Let's go!" Jord shouted.

With all his might he pushed against the weight of his paralysis, but it was no use.

"Jord! What's taking so long?" Lenore's voice sounded again.

Please mom help me, I want to wake up, Wyb desperately thought.

"We got a stray."

"Switch with me,"said a voice Wyb knew wasn't Lenore's, but it was familiar.

"Now you've gone and done it, kid," Jord remarked and left. Someone boarded. It was Soni.

"Soni," Wyb managed to stammer as he heart raced.

"Sorry, Wyb. You can't come. You're a foundling," she casually said.

Wyb's eyes widened, his chest constricting as the dreamscape around him twisted, falling apart as the freighter crashed, sending a shockwave throughout his entire body. He strained to scream as he was consumed by the destruction—but nothing escaped his lips.

Wyb jolted awake, gasping for air, his heart pounding from the disorienting fog of terror. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was. Scanning the captain's quarters of the ship —narrow walls, small bunk, the low hum of the engines vibrating through the floors. He was safe on the VCX-100

Steadying his breath, he pushed the violent images of his nightmare out of his mind.

Not real. Just a dream, he soothed himself.

The air in the room was cold but he was sweating. He wiped his forehead, as his eyes fell to his side. There lying next to him —Kyla.

Peacefully asleep beneath the blanket they had both shared, he could feel the warmth of her body. As he watched her adjust her position, his stomach dropped.

Last night—The memories flooded back in fragments: Her lips on his—no, his lips on hers. He couldn't tell how they had made their way back to the captain's quarters, only that they had. The sweet chaos of his hands in her hair, pulling her closer. Her nails digging into his shoulders, and her soft skin against his. She had whispered something to him in the midst of it all—what had it been? He couldn't remember the words, only the smoothness in her voice, like honey drizzled over a meiloorun. It was all so unexpected.

Soni— His thoughts turned sharply to her. "You're a foundling." Her cold dismissal had been a blow, one that had left him disoriented and questioning his capabilities and place in the New Republic—and with her. Clearly their friendship was over. A part of him knew it when she had decided to join the NRI, but another part of him hoped their moment on the prison freighter during their mission in the Unknown Regions would lead to more. He had always felt connected to her. From the first day at the academy, she had been the only cadet to walk up to him and ask him his name and where he was from. Since that moment they were inseparable. But now, they were as far apart from one another as each edge of the galaxy.

I can't keep doing this., he thought.

And Kyla? They had crossed professional boundaries. He knew his behavior before the junker confrontation was deplorable. Especially after seeing R3'S recording of Lenore being marooned in her youth. Truthfully Wyb had lost his way due to the hurtful words of a girl he thought was his best friend. He was the root of the dangerous situation Kyla had been in and would continue to be a danger to her and himself until he sorted out his head.

Slowly, he pulled the blanket over Kyla and with a quiet sigh, slid out of bed and headed toward the cockpit, the only place he knew he could get some clarity.

Beep Beep, R3's lets out a low, inquisitive chirp as he woke from being offline.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Wyb mutters, not looking at the droid. The soft whir of the ship's systems wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. The pilot's chair was just where he needed to be to get his head straight. He glanced at the navicomputer.

Ossus is just an hour away. Good. He thought. The sooner they got started on this mission the sooner it would end and he could return to Adelphi where he belonged.

R3 emits a series of skeptical chirps, rolling a little closer to Wyb. The droid's head tilted, as if to say, Are you sure about that?

"Okay, maybe not," Wyb admitted. He leans back in the chair. "Just… a lot on my mind."

R3 whistles softly, then lets out a warbled question.

"No, I don't want to talk about it. And don't show me any more recordings like you did yesterday," Wyb replied sharply. But after a moment, he caught hold of his tone. "Sorry. I didn't mean that. It was hard to watch."

The droid chirps an understanding tone and rolls toward the viewport, as if giving Wyb space to collect his thoughts.

He adjusted a few more settings when he heard the soft hiss of the door behind him. He turned to see Kyla stepping in holding two steaming cups of cafe in her hands.

"Figured you'd be in here," she said, holding out one of the cups to him.

"Thanks," he replied, taking it from her. The warmth from the cup seeped into his fingers, grounding him a little.

Kyla leaned against the console, with her own cup in hand. "Wyb about last night…"

Wyb looked up at her, startled, he hadn't quite figured out what to say about the incident.

"We've both gone through a lot in the last 48 hours," she stated. " you with Soni, me with Lando…"

"The junkers," Wyb added. Kyla looked at him trying to forget the whole ordeal. Wyb took a sip of the coffee, before speaking. "Kyla, I—"

"Don't worry about it," she said simply, cutting him off but without malice. "I don't want an apology."

Wyb opened his mouth, but no words came. He felt a weight settle in his chest, though her words seemed genuine.

"As I see it, we have a mission to complete and we don't need to make something out of this. Let's move on. Ok?"

"Ok," he agreed, with a gnawing feeling that she was letting him off the hook too easily.

R3 chirped, rolling closer. He let out a teasing whistle, drawing a laugh from Kyla.

"Ok R3," she acknowledged. "Now how much longer until I meet your Jedi Sister?"

"An hour," Wyb informed. He couldn't wait to see Sashee again — another foundling like himself. One he called family. Maybe seeing her would ease his questions of who he really was, and who he could be.

The sun hung low in the Ossus sky, casting golden hues across the pillars and steps of the New Jedi Order temple, barely visible above the treeline. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and the distant chirping of birds surrounded a small circle of young Padawans. Each one sat cross-legged on the soft clearing of grass, their faces marked with varying degrees of focus, curiosity, and restlessness.

"Give way to your surroundings," Sashee Vox stood center of the gathering, her voice steady and soothing, " Keep your eyes closed and focus on your breath."

The Padawans hesitated, some peeking an eye open, but one by one, they succumbed to the flow of the exercise.

"Good," Sashee said with a nod. She had been on Ossus for the last five years helping Master Luke train and raise the younglings. Seeing their growth and improvement brought great joy to her heart. "Now, reach out with your feelings. The Force is all around us—in the air, the earth, the trees, the sound of the birds. It flows through every living thing. Feel it. Become one with it."

One Padawan, a young Togruta named Kelara, furrowed her brow. "What if I don't feel anything, Master Vox?"

Sashee smiled softly, her eyes glinting with understanding. "Patience, Kelara. Sometimes it's a whisper, like a ripple on a still pond. Let it come to you."

Another Padawan, a Mirialan boy, raised his hand halfway before speaking. "But what if it feels...loud, chaotic? Like too many people speaking at once?"

Sashee turned toward him. "That is why you must remain calm, Jirro. The Force mirrors life—sometimes the turbulence inside us has a way of seeping outward and affecting our reality. Finding balance is the key to mastering your emotions."

Jirro nodded, his expression thoughtful.

As the group continued their quiet focus, a mischievous breeze danced through the clearing, causing the tall grass to sway and tickling the younglings legs. A few giggles escaped from the youngest Padawan, a Human girl known as Liva.

Sashee tilted her head, amusement filled eyes. The girl reminded her of herself in many ways. "The Force can also have a sense of humor. Don't be afraid to embrace joy, even in meditation. Laughter can be a connection, and the light in darkness, the hope in uncertainty."

The Padawans' smiles slowly returned to serene expressions as they tried again, the energy of the group shifting into something more unified.

"Master Vox, someone's coming," Kelara alerted.

Sasshee looked up sensing a presence she hadn't felt in a long time. In the sky she saw a VCX-100. It was Wyb.

"Very good. That's all for today. Take some time for yourselves before we witness the migration tonight," Sashee smiled and clapped her hands ending the lesson. The younglings stood and raced to the trails to play. Just because they were learning to be jedi didn't mean they couldn't have fun while doing so.

Sashee approached the ship excited to see her brother. It had been too long since they had spoken. As she neared and saw the loading ramp lower she sensed turmoil and despair as Wyb emerged to greet her.

"I'm looking for a death stick welder with an annoyingly overconfident attitude. Have you seen her?" Wyb yelled excitedly. R3 beeped with glee at the sight of Sashee and rushed down the ramp to meet her. Sashee placed her hands on R3's dome ignoring her brother's tease.

"No, but have you seen my brother?" She asked. "It can be this scruffy looking pilot with an old clunker for a ship."

Wyb laughed and quickly embraced her.

"You're getting old," Sashee teased. Wyb smiled and motioned Kyla over.

"Hello there," Sashee extended her hand. "I'm Sashee Vox, Wyb's sister."

"Kyla Vancil, ambassador of Bespin," Kyla remarked and shook Sashee's hand firmly. Wyb watched her curiously. The warmth he had known a few hours before was gone. All that remained was a stiff and determined attitude of duty.

"An ambassador? Quiet odd to have such a visitor out this far from the core," Sashee remarked.

"I'm afraid the New Republic is concerned about the teaching of Luke Skywalker and his influence on the new generation of jedi," Kyla informed. Wyb awkwardly shifted his stances. Something was off. A wall had gone up. Kyla was all business. No room for familiarity.

"I see," Sashee looked toward the trails concerned for the younglings. She knew prejudice herself due to her abilities and wanted not only to protect them but to prepare them for what others in the galaxy might do to them.

"The senate wants to know what exactly Skywalker is teaching. His curriculum. Or lesson plan," Kyla explained. "His sister Leia Organa Solo selected Wyb and I specifically to observe, hoping to make this situation more comfortable."

"Family connections do come in handy. But time with Master Skywalker might be difficult to arrange," Sashee explained.

"He's not here?" Wyb asked.

"He is. Just on a private lesson," Sashee replied, knowing full well the padawan on the lesson was Luke's own nephew Ben.

Ben had arrived a year ago and was having trouble following the lessons and interacting with the other students. Sashee sensed this mission was not solely political but also a family matter from the mention of Leia.

"Perhaps you can show us what you can while we wait for him,"Kyla suggested.

"I suppose I could show you some of their training, but it's an early day today. Tonight the migration of the Luminara. Lights up the whole forest. The younglings enjoy it. They are on the trails for free time. You may speak with them individually if you like."

Kyla stood in a shaded clearing where a few of the younglings practiced their exercises. The Padawans were spread out, each focused on different tasks: some where merely meditating, others hovered on their own a few feet above the ground, while others levitated small rocks with varying degrees of success. The air was alive with a quiet hum of concentration, interspersed with occasional bursts of laughter when someone stumbled or lost focus.

While she observed the young padawans, she couldn't help but be reminded of the children she had watched over during the rebellion.

These children should be with their family, she thought but then realized perhaps they didn't have any.

R3 stood beside her recording footage she could present to the senate. She was grateful to the droid for his dedication to her assignment. But also glad he was helping her keep her mind focused and away from the tension between Wyb.

"Go to Ossus, see what Luke Skywalker is up to, and report back. And take your ranger with you.", Lando's words mocked her.

She hated when he was right. How had she been so careless? Allowing herself to give way to her emotions, or his broad shoulders, his embrace, his strong hands that had touched every inch of her body. It was unprofessional, but also lackluster, cliche even. Especially when she knew full well his heart clearly was occupied by someone else.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a rock darting dangerously close to R3's dome.

Beep!, R3 gasped as a padawan rushed to them in concern.

"Is he ok?" Kelara asked, inspecting the droid who threatened to shock the young Togruta .

"R3, it was an accident," Kyla explained to which the droid recounted his threat. "He's fine. Just a bit startled. Impressive, what you are able to do. What's your name?"

"Kelara," she answered.

"I'm Kyla."

"You came with the man that saved us years ago," Kelara said and motioned over to Wyb who was in deep conversation with Sashee on a bench. "Did you both come to check on us?"

"Yes," Kyla replied warmly. "Can you tell me where Ranger Tersu rescued you from?"

"I'm not sure…a lab of some sort," Kelara frowned at the memory. "It was bad. Not all of us made it out."

Kyla knelt down to meet the pawadan's eye level. "Are you happy here?"

"Yes," Kelara said. "Master Skywalker is very wise. Master Vox, she is a great teacher. I've learned so much since she's been here."

Kyla nodded and stood and looked over at the jedi. She had never met a jedi before. She had heard stories about them when she was young and figured they were made up by the Empire to scare the population into compliance. But now, here she was in the presence of beings who could use a power that she didn't understand or could explain. She felt small and humbled, and felt she needed to start questioning these assignments she was being given.

"You are troubled," Kelara said. "Hurt… I sense it."

"I know you have the capabilities to read my thoughts," Kyla said. "But it would be polite not to since I am a stranger and your guest."

"Sorry," Kelara apologized sheepishly. Kyla nodded as she took off to play with another youngling.

Wyb watched the young padawan run away from Kyla. Sashee noticed his demeanor and knew now was no time to be a Jedi master. She needed to be an older sister. "You're brooding, and it's unsettling the younglings. Spill."

Wyb sighed, "Spill what?"

"You're wound up tighter than R3 after a bad oil bath. Something's eating at you." Sashee tilted her head, her gaze steady. "And it's not just this Senate mission, is it?"

Wyb hesitated, his mouth opening and closing like he was struggling to find the words. Finally, he admitted,"It's… complicated."

"Complicated usually means personal," Sashee said knowingly. "Is it Soni?"

Wyb froze, his eyes narrowing. "How do you do that?"

Sashee smirked. He rolled his eyes but couldn't help a faint chuckle. Then, his expression turned serious again. Sashee leaned toward him.

"I saw Soni a few days ago. First time in years. I thought something was between us. But I was wrong."

"But she's still your friend," Sashee's brow furrowed, failing to see the issue.

"I don't think so," Wyb continued, his voice quieter now. "She said she has responsibilities, her family being so well known in the core, and I'm... well, me. A foundling. A nobody from nowhere. "

"And I'm a nobody born to two gladiators from the rings of Derilyn." Sashee's expression softened, and she placed a hand on his arm. "Wyb, your past does not define you. Do not let anyone's judgement write your story."

"I know," Wyb said, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I just never thought she would think that way about me."

Sashee's lips twitched in a faint smile. "And the ambassador? When you arrived I figured the trouble was between you and her."

Wyb groaned, covering his face with his hands. "That's another problem. We are close. Too close..."

"You sure know how to complicate things little brother," Sashee prompted, with a humorous tone. "You truly are a Tersu."

"I just feel lost," Wyb glanced at Kyla.

Sashee smiled softly. "Give it time. Trust your instincts. You are one of the best pilots I know. You can navigate your way from here if you just give yourself time."

Wyb was quiet for a long moment, his gaze lingering on Kyla. "Thanks…sis."

Sashee grinned as her heart filled with joy hearing Wyb call her sis.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting its final golden rays across the horizon, the air thick with the scent of the forest, the temperature dropped and settled into night. The Padawans watched eagerly as the sound of fluttering wings emerged. It was time.

Sashee stood next to her brother and Kyla. Her voice barely above a whisper, "Watch closely."

The first flicker of light appeared in the distance—a small, glimmering speck like a lone star against the dark forest. Slowly, it grew in size.

"The leader," Kelara said.

Soon others joined it, dancing and shimmering like the stars in space.

"Luminara," Jirro explained, his voice filled with reverence. "They come here every year to lay their eggs. When it's time for the new generation to move on, they light up the entire forest to guide their path. But they always return the following year to their origins."

The forest erupted in a cascade of glowing lights, as thousands of the small, firefly-like creatures revealed themselves. Their soft, golden glow illuminated the leaves and branches in a breathtaking display, making the whole clearing seem as if it were bathed in starlight.

Wyb stood silently, his gaze following the dance of the Luminara as they swirled around each of the padawans, Sashee R3, and then Kyla. She was glowing, almost ethereal in the soft light. She smiled at him for the first time since they had left the ship and laughed. Wyb broke into laughter as R3 chirped, annoyed by the number of insects crawling on him. The younglings stood and began to spread out to investigate the different parts of the forest. Sashee nodded and took her leave to stroll alongside them. Finally, they were alone.

"Kyla," Wyb said quietly, his voice low and earnest. There was something in his chest, a quiet weight that had been lingering since their conversation in the cockpit. Now felt like the right time to speak. "I know you don't want an apology, but I owe you one…for what happened…"

"Wyb—"

"...not last night…I'm not sorry about that… But what I said… before the escape pod. I didn't mean it and you didn't deserve it. It was cruel. I'm sorry."

Kyla turned to him, her expression a mixture of surprise and understanding. She gave him a small smile, her eyes softening.

"Thank you, Wyb, I appreciate that," she replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But you were right about one thing… the new republic is greedy. I fear it will fall to a dangerous New Order more extreme than the Empire."

Wyb watched the glow of the Luminara and the gentleness of the world around them. He felt a sense of hope. He wanted to settle Kyla's worry. He took her hand and held it.

"Then we'll make it our mission to ensure peace and equality for all citizens of the galaxy. Whatever it takes," he pledged.

Kyla looked at him, her gaze softening even further. Her heart raced as she realized he was repeating her words from the mines of Mandalore back to her. As the light of the migration illuminated around him, she knew then that the lines of pleasure and professionalism would from that moment on always be blurred between her and Wyb Tersu.