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100-yardstare · 5 years

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I guess I know how George R* Mart*n feels because I can never finish any of my fics anymore!

I started writing this fic when SW EP 7 came out... in 2015. I never touched it again. It was about my OC Sarai and Steven. Since I’m probably never going to finish it I wanted to at least post it here for archival reasons. Feel free to read if you like!

Summary: The son of a deceased Resistance pilot, Steven Weatfield seeks refuge on the moon of Pantora with his living father in an attempt to escape the horrors of war and participation with the Resistance against the First Order. However, balance and fate seem to follow them when a Jedi, lost among the corridors of time for unknown circumstances, reminds him of his mission, and his mothers sacrifice.

Word Count: 2,962

Chapter 1

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A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

STAR WARS

War never ends. It has been twenty-seven years since the rebellion’s triumphant victory over the Death Star, and likewise, the end of Darth Sidious and Darth Vader. However, the New Republic’s struggles are not yet over. The First Order has risen, and again, is spreading disorder upon the galaxy, forcing General Leia to build up a Resistance to push back further destruction. Casualties are always a factor, and even for the Resistance, the death toll and injured have recently reached peaks that were unforeseen. The sudden and dramatic losses have frightened large numbers of surviving resistance soldiers.

Steven Wheatfield, former trainee of the Resistance, has since resigned by desire of his surviving father. They are attempting to stay out of the conflict at all costs, currently residing in a small rural settlement on the moon of Pantora…

. . . . . . .

“In a world covered by endless water… the people of the Republic were driven to create artificial solders for war. This war was spreading through quickly— so quickly, it was soon leaving no portion of the galaxy untouched by its strife! But these two forces were not equal by all means. Yes, droid and clone were similar as fierce soldiers, each having their own distinct advantages, and likewise Sith leaders Count Dooku, and other such foes provided their means within the Separatists army. But! Leading the Republic’s armies, among the thousands of brilliant clone soldiers, was the Jedi!”

A series of sarcastic beeps came from a R6 unit after the long introduction, whose small chirps seemed to bounce off the snowy field and into the tall toupee colored grasses surrounding. A couple of crunchy footsteps would cease at that moment, as Steven stopped walking, and telling his story for that matter.

“What are you talking about, Wheatles?!” Steven cried, who so abruptly turned around at the moment of his R6 units bickering. “Of course the Jedi were important! Now would you please let me continue my story? The Jedi lead the Republic’s armies; they carried the torch that spread throughout the galaxy, and pushed back the dark, and those who came their way.”

The droid spat out another set of beeps, carrying with it the most unpleasant of sounds, which in return caused Steven’s face to blush pink.

“Y-You moof-milker!” Steven yelled. “The history of the Clone Wars is not useless! In fact, it just goes to show you why the Republic failed in the first place. From the corruption in the senate all the way to the very battles themselves that took place—they all were important!”

Steven paused for a moment to gather himself, soon his flush of color leaving his face. “I’ll bet if Jedi were still around…” His face relaxed, a little too much even, as his eyebrows rose up in a loathsome furrow. With this, his voice fell in depth, sending even more of his hot breath into the icy Pantoran air.

“If the Jedi were here, like they were then, maybe this war would already be over. Maybe… maybe Mum would be…”

A sudden gust pushed through the field, sending a dust of snow off the ground and into the air like powder. After the gust settled, a soft wave of snow began to fall—so soft that you barely noticed the moment it fell upon your lashes.

“The Jedi fought alongside the clone army for three years… And they would have done it too. They would have won. But… they’re gone now.” Steven paused, only shortly to express a gentle sigh. “You don’t think… those kinds of things are myths, do you?”

The R6 unit softly spoke up with a simple, long beep, which was by far significantly calmer than any of its other comments were beforehand. The droid’s head centered itself as his back legs lowered a tad. This caused Steven to stare down at his droid companion, soon his sorrowful look diminishing from the droid’s obvious apology.

“Thank you, Wheatles,” Steven remarked. He sighed deeply before saying, “come on. We better get you home before it starts snowing any harder. I know how much you hate walking through the stuff.”

Steven turned around to start walking his droid along the path they had been traveling down for some time. In the far distance a small village and a distribution of independent properties could be seen. From their chimneys, smoke from fires within all of the homes scattered about the landmass reached high into the skies like fingers stretching from a cloudy palm. This scenery, although lovely in its own way, still was strange to Steven. It wasn’t particularly the cold landscape, or the smallness of it all, but more rather how quiet it was. Steven was used to busy bustling of resistance soldiers, the sound of engines starting from all varieties of ships, and sometimes even the occasional laser shooting practice. Steven was used to getting his hands dirty in engine oil and grime, and the strain in his arms from piloting ships. To say the least, it was like he was out of his element. It wasn’t the same.

Steven first anticipated turning around and staying out in the field longer. That or he figured he’d might as well go off the trail and see what he could find out in the tall grasses of Pantora. Who knows? Maybe he would find some parts lying around or something interesting at least. He’d rather spend his time out in the cold then going back. Sitting around, doing nothing? No, that wasn’t his thing. Especially since sitting around or doing even simple chores required him to listen to his father mumble under his breath all the time; he made the sheer air in the room feel heavy. There wasn’t a day that went by that wasn’t quite otherwise.

Steven suddenly grumbled to himself, which wasn’t like him. He liked keeping a positive attitude, but this—this feeling—was getting redundant.

“I could just take my ship and fly off somewhere, ya know, Wheatles?” Steven spoke aloud. “We could fly right out of here and somewhere out there. Ya, that would be brilliant, wouldn’t it? But he says otherwise.”

Wheatles gave off a sigh sound in response. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get Steven to cheer up some. Agreeing with Steven always seemed to help.

“Ya! That’s right! Can you imagine it? Steven and his loyal droid, Sir Wheatles, off into the galaxy! We need a team name though. Wheatles, maybe you should write this down—”

Before Steven could continue, his eye caught a glimpse of something in the sky at the opposite end of the field from where the village was. At first he figured it was a mere speck of floating black dust that just looked like something, but it was indeed something this time.

Steven focused more sternly on the object in the sky now, realizing that it was ablaze as it fell through the planets atmosphere. As it drew closer to the ground, he was beginning to realize it was a ship. He didn’t react until the ship plummeted into the ground some two-miles away. After its obvious crash, was when he had a delayed response.

“Hell!” Steven yelled. “Did you see that? Did you see the ship fall from the bloody sky?!”

His droid was quiet as Steven began fanning his face uncontrollably. This was unbelievable. Well—it was believable in the sense that it happened all the time, but not here. Not for them.

“We gotta go check it out!” was Steven’s next bright idea. His droid beeped a few times, indicating its own distress, but this didn’t seem to give Steven any second thoughts. “Who knows what that was? It could be a resistance ship for all we know! Somebody needs our help!”

Steven started running. He started running for so far and so long that Wheatles was a good few paces behind him by the time they crawled over the little hill that lead them to the crash site.

The landscape from one side of the hill, and to the other, was quite drastic. A decent sized indention had been marked in the ground on the other side from impact. The trail that the fallen ship had left from hitting the ground, and then having skated across the dried tan grasses, was black and covered in soot. Some of the stalks of grass further to the side that had not been completely crushed had some traces of embers, whose glow, thankfully, did not increase in size for the time being.

To say the least, Steven was ecstatic. But he was also cautious. The ship didn’t look resistance, at least a type that he was used to seeing. It seemed to have an old design, from what parts he could distinguish what was left of it. The ship overall was so jumbled that it was hard to tell. The metal was obviously still hot on the outside, which caused a steam to escape from its structure and into the cold air.

“Should we check it out?” Steven asked his droid, who had just a second earlier made it beside him to join him in his stare at the crashed space ship.

Steven seemed to answer himself rather quickly. “Yeah, let’s check it out!” he exclaimed excitedly, and rushed down the little hill and up towards the ship. He stopped only when he was close enough to feel the warmth from the crash site. With narrowed eyes he tried to look through the rising dust and soot through his glasses, scanning the area before him as much and as diligently as he could to make sure there was nobody about.

But even with his careful eye, he could see nothing.

“Whoa, Wheatles, you don’t suppose… anyone survived this?” Steven asked out loud. From the outward diagnostics of the ship, it seemed someone could have survived. It was wrecked, sure, but it wasn’t so wrecked that anyone within couldn’t have found a way to take cover to land. But still, he couldn’t be too careful.

R6 beeped a few times, which caused Steven’s attention to fall back onto his droid.

“Tell Dad? Are you joking?” Steven scoffed. “The first sign of any sort of ship crashing on Pantora, especially around him, is just asking for us to be relocated. We can’t tell him.”

The metal creaked then, causing what sounded like movement from the inside of the ship. Steven’s head seemed to snap back upward once the sound hit his ears, realizing then from his prior suspicions that someone must be in there. He wasn’t sure what to do, in all honesty. Someone’s life was very much on the line potentially, and he felt the need to be there for them once they stepped out of that ship. But another thought crossed his mind: what if they weren’t friendly? What if this ship was First Order, and he didn’t even realize it?

The odds seemed slim that it was First Order, based on the ships design, but the thought came to him regardless. He hunkered down, only a bit, but soon realized that doing so wasn’t going to stop him from being spotted. Instead, he kept his stance firm, waited, and listened.

Creaks and paces were heard for a few seconds longer until the door was triggered to open. At first, nothing walked out of the crumpled ship. Inside there was only darkness, which indicated that the vessel had lost power just as it had crashed. A few sparks from deep inside the ship could be seen, but sill, he waited…

Staring wide-eyed by then, Steven watched as a figure walked limply out of the doorway. As it came into the Pantoran light, he saw it was a togruta female. Instantly, he became relieved of a First Order threat, but from this a new question arose. Her outfit was strange, and almost foreign to him. It wasn’t anything togruta typically wore. Instead, it was a grey and white tunic. The first thing that slid into his train of thought then, was…

“No, it couldn’t be,” Steven muttered to himself. He had read many of Republic documents of the Jedi Knights. Their attire seemed to match what this woman was wearing, but… it seemed too coincidental. Seemingly, his thoughts of fairytales diminished once he saw her fall to her knees, and collapse backwards onto the icy grasses.

R6 spilled out a series of worried beeps the second she hit the ground. Steven, on the other hand, rushed up towards her as quickly as his legs could take him. Once he was next to her, he kneeled down by her side, and lifted her head into his lap. He immediately checked for any signs that she wasn’t breathing, her pulse, and her overall state. But, she was fine.

Steven sighed again once he noticed she was still alive. “Thank God. She’s all right. Wheatles, no need to worry. I’m sure she’s just shaken from the crash. Although I’d suggest we try and get her somewhere to rest.”

R6 responded positively to Steven’s suggestions, and came by Steven once again to further inspect the togruta woman. The both of them didn’t really know what to do at that moment. It had been a long while since they had come into contact with any other races besides the Pantoran’s and the occasional human that passed by in order to get to the Pantoran Capital. Should they even ask questions? Should they still treat her as if she was a threat?

Out of habit from his resistance training, Steven looked over the woman further. Her purple skin tone seemed to clash with the idea of all, or at least a vast majority, of togruta being of rustic, orange-like tones. Her head tails and montrals were also relatively grown in, indicating she couldn’t have been older than in her mid-twenties. Alike all other togruta, or those who have at least proven themselves as warriors to their people, she bore a Akul Tooth headdress, made of a black band with the golden, triangular shaped teeth attached to it. Her robe itself, on the other hand, seemed to bring more surprises. Steven looked down at her beltline, realizing that attached, was…

“A lightsaber?” Steven’s blue eyes seemed to lighten up with a sparkle. “No, it couldn’t be…”

Steven looked back at the woman’s face, noticing her eyes were still closed, and then back down at the lightsaber. If it was actually a lightsaber, he wasn’t 100% sure, but it looked like one, and certainly mimicked every detail he had ever read about them in the Jedi lore and Republic history text he had indulged in so much growing up.

Almost like a child, his hands reached down towards the mysterious weapon, his fingers only delicately touching the carved metal of gold and silver before he was suddenly struck across the cheek.

Instant alert spilled from R6, as the both of them realized she had awoken. The togruta pushed Steven violently away from her, and then came to a stand, one of her hands clutching the weapon at her beltline tightly as she glared at both of them.

“Who are you!?” she yelled.

“Look, we mean you no harm! I was just—” Steven attempted to explain, sending his arms in the air as if to say he was unarmed, and very much of no danger.

“I said, who are you!?” the girl fussed again. The situation was growing tenser by the minute, and so Steven realized attempting to prove his innocence wasn’t nearly as important as saying who he was.

“I’m Steven Wheatfield! This is my R6 until, Wheatles! We’re just settlers on Pantora…”

“Pantora?” The girl’s voice rose significantly in her question. It was as if she was baffled she was even there. “The Empire then… are they in this area?”

“Empire?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Steven. The Empire has taken control of all previous Republic systems. Tell me where the Empire establishments are located on this planet!”

“I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about because the Empire hasn’t existed for… well over two decades.”

The togruta girl’s dark eyes widened, as if replacing a physical gasp. Again, she was baffled, in a state of disbelief and confusion. Her legs looked like they wanted to stumble, but her strong stance caught her.

“The Empire hasn’t existed in over two decades?” she repeated, as if saying it out loud would help her bring it to reality. “Then what of the Inquisitors? The Stormtrooper armies? Darth Vader? The purge?”

“What are you talking about?” Steven’s panicked emotions were escaping him now, and he was starting to become more empathetic to the stranger in front of him. “What’s an inquisitor? The Stormtroopers… we’ll they aren’t exactly Empire anymore. And Darth Vader is…” he paused, his calmed worried eyes settling into her distraught gaze. “Darth Vader is dead.”

“What?” Her words fell out of her, softly, as if everything she knew was suddenly gone. By looking at her, everything was gone. She seemed scared, isolated, and without a clue as to what to do.

Steven remained on the ground, realizing the situation had taken a complex turn. He eyed her first, head to toe, taking in her features as if it was yet again the first time he had seen her before.

“…Who are you?” Steven asked softly.

The girl looked to the ground, and then to her hands. Her eyes would shut tightly for a split second, as if her mind had taken her elsewhere; searching, wondering…

“My name is Sarai Daan. I am a Jedi.”

#tumblr will probably destroy the layout but ohhh welll #kailey writes #sarai daan #steven wheatfield #star wars fic

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100-yardstare · 5 years

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Making this a separate post cause it’s long, but here’s the second part to my fic.

Word Count: 5,788

Chapter 2

Steven couldn’t believe his ears. A Jedi? It made sense, but at the same time, it didn’t. His mind raced, filling in answers with the recollections of all the stories he heard, and books he had read. Sarai fit every description he had ever learned about the Jedi. She was here, alive— standing before him, but at the same time he kept questioning as to why. Why was she here?

“Can you tell me what happened to you?” Steven asked, calmly and sincerely. He slowly rose to a sturdy stand, not once parting his gaze from her. Alongside him, R6 continued to stay silent, listening with Steven for Sarai’s answer.

“I don’t know… it all happened so fast,” Sarai attempted to explain. Her eyes soon settled onto the smothered grasses at her boots. “I was being followed by the Empire. They finally found the whereabouts of my location, and I was trying to make a leap into hyperspace.”

Steven eagerly kept staring, wanting so desperately to hear her story. Listening to her was almost as if the tales and legends in those books and history banks about the Jedi had come to life, and now were speaking back to him after years of his questions.

“And then?” Steven asked.

“They were going to pull me into their tractor beam, but I managed to get the boost I needed... Something happened though… The ships sensors were going haywire, and instead of going into hyperspace, I felt a tug—a rush of energy; warm condensed energy, as if all that was, would have been, and had been gathered around me at once into its embrace, and then gently let me go.”

Steven didn’t understand her. She was talking about something rather vague to begin with, but her mannerism and choice of words didn’t strike as anything familiar to him.

“I thought it had just been a dream… another vision, but before I was released I saw…”

“Saw what?”

“The light…” Sarai responded, finally her eyes lifting upward from the ground and up into the sky, meeting the clouds and snow filled air. “The Force; it brought me here… but why?”

From her answer Steven’s mind only filled with more questions. Was there really such thing as ‘the Force’? And if there was, could it really be possible to have seen it physically?

Before he could even think to ask her anything else, his comlink started to buzz, which instantly pulled him out of his calmed and inquisitive state, and to something on the lines of concern. He normally would never get a call unless it was his father worrying about him again.

“Oh shit,” Steven mumbled out loud. He awkwardly fumbled through his back pocket and then took a hold of the device, answering it as calmly as he could. Despite his efforts, however, his voice started to shake.

“H-hello? Dad?” He stuttered first.

“Steven, where are you?” The voice from the other line was so obviously his father that he could even feel the steaming fury leaking from the speakers, and through his suppressed tone. “Tell me where you have been, it’s been way too long! You should be home!”

“I’m-m—I’m well… out walking with Wheatles,” Steven tried to stay.

“What’s wrong with you?” His dad asked next, taking immediate notice of how Steven was talking. “Is there something wrong?”

Steven had to make up a lie, or something to cover the reasons for his mannerisms. “It’s just a little cold out here, Dad,” Steven finally said. “We got quite a breeze a few moments ago.”

“All the more reason to come back then,” his father replied. “You should hurry; I don’t want you out there any longer.”

“Okay, I’ll be back soon,” Steven responded one last time, and shut off the comlink. His eyes instantly fell to Sarai, who had listened quietly the entire time to the conversation. “This is going to sound… rather weird, but I don’t think it would be a good idea if you told my dad you were… a Jedi,” Steven stated.

Sarai raised a brow in confusion, but she didn’t bother to ask any questions. Instead she nodded her head softly and turned to look back at her ship. “I know you’re probably taking a risk allowing me to come with you,” Sarai said. “But I won’t say for long. I just need some supplies to fix my ship and I’ll be on my way.”

“But where will you go?” Steven asked, but before his question could have a moment out in the open for Sarai to answer, he seemed to gather an answer for himself. His eyes shot open, as if he had surprised himself. “I know!” Steven chirped. “The Resistance can help you!”

“Resistance?” Sarai asked. “But you said before that the Empire was gone… why is there still a resistance?”

“Well, the Empire is gone, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t bad guys about…” Steven gritted his teeth together, realizing that there was quite an amount of information to tell Sarai. But until then, he needed to get out the basics in order to properly help her. “He’s been missing for years, but General Leia may be able to help lead you in the right direction to find him. He’s a Jedi too; Master Luke Skywalker.”

“A Jedi master!?” Sarai gasped. It was like hearing this was something she hadn’t heard in ages. Since Steven met her, this was the first time her eyes opened wide with what was hope. It also seemed that she had so much more to say, but her composure immediately took over, stripping her of her excitement. “If you can tell me where to find General Leia, I would be forever in your debt.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Steven responded. “Here, I’ll take you back to my place. Just… act normal.”

. . . . . . .

The village area was quiet and spread out. There was the market place, and a means of public business, but the setting of private property and homes were further out and more divided. Homes sat on large sections of land in particular. Steven’s home was to the northwest of the village area, just far enough from others to provide a decent means of isolation, but close enough for a convenient walk to proper supplies, and ports.

To the left side of Steven’s home, a large barn-like building had been built. It was here that Steven’s father could be seen, inspecting a small sized star cruiser. It looked to be uncompleted by only a few minor means, but it looked to be able to fly out at any day.

“Who is this?” the older man grumbled. “What’s a togruta doing all the way out here in the Outer-Rim territories?”

“Oh, well… you see, she’s a bit in trouble, Dad,” Steven admitted. He couldn’t completely lie to him. “Her ship had some problems and she had to make a landing here. I offered to help her.”

“Problems, huh?” Steven’s father responded. Although his tone didn’t sound bitter, his expression looked very much so.

“Anyways…” Steven cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head momentarily before walking up closer to his father, leading Sarai up to him. “Dad, this is Sarai. Sarai, this is my dad.”

“You can call me Connor. Connor Wheatfield,” Steven’s father added and then extended his hand outward for a handshake, in which Sarai would quickly take the opportunity oblige.

“It’s a pleasure,” Sarai responded. “Did you build this ship?”

“Not me… I wouldn’t want anything to do with the thing,” Connor answered. “My son Steven has actually taken the time to put this thing together based on the old cruiser the family used during the battle of Endor.

“Endor?” Sarai muttered. Confused, she still managed to keep her attention set on Connor. “Quite a while ago… it seems.”

“Quite a while indeed.” Connor chuckled softly, as if attempting to make light of it. “Almost three decades ago… My how time passes; for only a brief time, the galaxy found peace. That is, until the First Order stepped up.”

Sarai felt a wave of what felt like cold adrenaline pass through her. It was very brief, but the feeling rushed over her so quickly, and violently, it could have been compared to a thunderbolt striking the Kamino Sea. It was only at this moment, ever so briefly, her outward composure slipped again, and her expression which was usually suppressed of emotion crumbled, as of a child that had been given news they weren’t prepared for.

Almost three decades. How long after Order 66 were the Jedi hunted, even after her disappearance? How long did the small teams of rebels, merely speaking of a rebellion at the time, take to build their means to fight the Empire? And ultimately, how long was it until this battle of Endor, which seemed to be the final marker of the Empire’s control of the galaxy?

“Are you all right, Sarai?” Steven asked with concern. He took a step toward her, as if in preparation to console her if need be.

“I’m fine…” Sarai managed to say.

“I’m sure she’s shaken up from that landing…” Connor suggested. “I don’t know what you’ll be able to find around the house for your ship, since Steven has already taken the liberty to use most of our supplies to build that useless star cruiser. However, I’m sure you’ll find some parts in the market, but you’ll have to wait until morning. All the locals have already closed shop, I’m sure.”

“Wow, that’s really nice of you, Dad,” Steven said. A smile seemed to creep over his lips as he spoke this, though his words came out with curiosity.

“Don’t think this is all you can stay freebee though,” Connor immediately explained. “You can stay here the night, and then you need to try and get what you need by tomorrow and get going.”

Sarai nodded respectfully, but she didn’t say another word.

“Now then, I have some dinner cooking. It should be ready within the hour,” Connor stated, looking over at Steven. “It’ll be nighttime before you know it, so I don’t want you out here messing with that piece of junk.”

“Okay, Dad,” Steven mumbled in response. His father would simply turn his back and begin walking towards the home, leaving Sarai and Steven among the lightly whitened grasses.

“It’s not a piece of junk, just so you know…” Sarai commented then. This caused Steven to lift his gaze back up to her. “It looks pretty good considering it’s made from spare parts. Did your dad teach you?”

“Dad? Oh, a little… You see, we both were—well, the family—used to serve in the Resistance. I learned all my training there. My dad was chief engineer and designer of our squadron. You could say I got the knick from him.”

“Your family? Are they here as well?” Sarai asked.

“It’s just my father and I now,” Steven responded, although his sentence ended with a sigh, and his eyes immediately would shift back to the ship. “My Mum… well… she didn’t make it.”

Sarai was quiet. She could already sense some rising negative feelings in Steven that she didn’t want to stir. With his feelings she could see blurred images in the Force; distant outlined images as of shadows at ones feet.

“I’m sorry…” Sarai finally said, gently.

“Don’t be…” Steven replied. His eyes were a bit reddened, but he sniffled his nose and raised his eyes back up to Sarai. Quickly, he would dismiss his lowly state for a smile.

“See, I don’t think Dad quite understands, but… this ship here, means a lot to me. It’s a symbol of all my hard work and accomplishments as a Resistance trainee. Accomplishments I didn’t get to prove.”

“Why aren’t you and your father still there?” Sarai wondered. She had a gut feeling something had happened, but she wasn’t sure. Inquisitively she waited for a response, but again, this seemed to strike a negative topic.

“The life of a soldier wasn’t a life my dad wanted. Not for him…” his eyes shifted to the floor, but not for long. “And not for me either.”

“Do you want to be there? To be a Resistance soldier?”

Steven laughed in response, as his face began to turn red. “Me? Back at the Resistance? Oi, yeah, that would be brilliant. I’m not necessarily fond of being stuck on this icy planet, but my dad insists. And what my dad insists, I do.”

“I see…” Sarai muttered. She chose to return her attention fully to the ship, although her mind sat on what Steven had said. She had been around soldiers her whole life. She had seen the desire to serve, and be a part of something greater than the individual. Just like in the Clone Soldier legions she had helped lead into battle, she saw the same thing in Steven. The desire to be out there.

. . . . . . .

“Food isn’t quite the forte around these parts, but it’ll do,” Connor said, handing a bowl of soup to Sarai.

Steven had already begun eating, although reluctantly, as if he had seen the same bowl with the same broth hundreds of times. R6 simply stood beside Steven, making a very small coo sound, as if trying to show sympathy.

“I don’t mind,” Sarai responded with a kindly smile. “It’s definitely a relief from the ration bars I’m used to eating.”

“Ugh, you eat those things?” Connor responded. “They’re a good source of nutrition, I’ll give them that much. But they aren’t something I’d want to eat ever again.”

“Yet you serve this soup almost daily,” Steven muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Steven grumbled, stirring his spoon into the broth like a child.

It soon grew quiet, with only the sound of the small bubbles popping from the large container of broth at the stove. Outside, and among the dark, snow was hitting the window, hard enough to sound as if a storm was blowing over. But despite that, the rich smell of the food, among a lightened fireplace to the leftward portion of the room, brought a comforting feeling in the home. It wasn’t made of marble and gold, but it was pleasant all the same.

The wooden floors that creaked under your feet reminded Sarai of some of the many villages she had visited during her service in the Clone Wars. Those moments when battle was at a pause, and it was only the people she was serving.

“What kind of ship is it that you have out there?” Connor asked Sarai next.

Sarai had just taken her first bite of the soup. Even with Steven’s complaints she enjoyed its taste and warmth. “My ship?” Sarai repeated aloud. “It’s a G9… Rigger-Class.”

“The Light Freighter?” Connor asked, his brows raising, causing his forehead to crease significantly.

Steven paused eating, knowing just like his father how curious that was. Although the difference between Steven and his dad was that only he knew about where Sarai had come from.

“That’s an extremely old model…” Connor added. “No wonder the thing crashed.”

Steven started coughing, apparently out of having something go down the wrong throat hole. His eyes watered, and his face shifted colors again, but he quickly got a hold of himself. “Oi, no wonder…” Steven chuckled after his awkward series of coughs.

“I’d normally suggest trying your hand at finding another ship to fly, considering the age of the one you have, but I guess credit is rather tight these days.” Connor proceeded to stand up and take his bowl, eyeing Steven momentarily before shifting his attention, and speaking to him then. “Now, son, are you going to finish that broth or should I just throw it away?”

“I’ll finish it…” Steven responded, although keeping his eyes on the soup instead to continue stirring the liquid with his spoon.

“That’s what you always say,” Connor argued.

Before another word could be muttered, the simple sound of snow hitting the window was enveloped with a loud buzzing noise, and the black outside in return was shined upon with bright white and blue lights, causing the snow to become like silver.

It was so out-of-the-ordinary that Connor, in the split second it took him to register something was outside, tossed the empty bowl back onto the little table, nearly causing it to fall off, and ran towards the window. Steven, meanwhile, remained where he was, eyeing his father cautiously, but he himself still in a state of stillness.

“No… No no no no no no it can’t be!” Connor shrilled. Panic was obviously taking him over, which instantly caused Steven to feel it too.

“What is it, what’s out there?” Steven asked first, setting his bowl down and lifting from his seat.

“We’ve got to hide!” Connor fretted. “Put out the lights!”

“Dad, what’s wrong?!” Steven fussed again, this time coming to a stand. R6 tried holding itself together, but it started shaking, and its little blue light that served as its eye glowed a little brighter.

“It’s them! They’ve found me!”

“Found you?”

“Just get moving, Steven!” Connor pleaded, although at that moment, it was a little too late to do anything, really.

Amidst Connor’s fear and Steven’s uncertainty, Sarai already knew. She didn’t quite recognize what she was sensing outside, but she knew it was an enemy.

“The First Order,” Sarai said out loud, opening her eyes as if she had been briefly under a trance; a vision. “There are two small squadrons outside; two ships total, one towards the market. There is no use in hiding from them. They’ll break in.”

“I can’t let them find me or my son!” Connor hollered again.

“They’re not here for you…” Sarai mentioned. “They’re looking for something else.”

“And how would you know that!?”

A loud knock on the door broke Connor’s question, twisting all the attention to fall onto the doorway. Terrified, Connor looked at his son, whose blue eyes matched his own in a sense of fear of the unknown.

Connor didn’t waste time deciding whether or not to answer the door. As much as he could he tried to bury his outward expression of fear and walked up to the door. However, before he could quite reach it the door was knocked down.

Walking inside, was a group of soldiers clad in white armor. To Sarai, they were the exact enemies she had known decades ago. Servants of the Empire—Stormtroopers. Only now, they served another evil just as devastating.

“Evacuate your home immediately or you’ll pay with your life,” one of the soldiers commanded. Connor raised his hands desperately, which triggered Steven to follow his actions. Sarai, on the other hand, followed, but very slowly. She continued to visualize the numbers surrounding the home, and just beyond the door.

Aggressively, the soldiers began to strip the three, and the droid, out of the home and outside into the snow. It was there that they finally saw two First Order ships had landed among the community, one close to the barn, and another at a distance, whose lights indicated it was close to the market area.

However, among the ship literally at their doorstep, and standing before the white Stormtroopers, was another.

“Captain Phasma…” Connor gasped, as if he was looking at a ghost. Her silver armor shined the brightest among the others, causing her to become a spectacle underneath the bright lights, and highlighted by the falling snow.

“Are there any others in the building?” Phasma approached, asking the Stormtroopers that had pulled them out from inside.

“No, just the three of them, and their droid.”

“Search the home, for any possible stowaways or further leads, I’ll take care of them,” Phasma ordered next. Four soldiers of the group scampered into the house then, but in return allowing Phasma full oversight of Sarai, Steven, and his father. “We have reason to believe that the map to Luke Skywalker could possibly be in this area. Would you have any idea where that could be?” Her tone was far more sarcastic than her question ought to be.

“A map? To Luke Skywalker?” Connor responded on behalf of the three, but his tone came out more in disbelief than anything else, and speaking mostly out of fear. “Why would there be a map of Luke Skywalker here?”

“Don’t play coy with me,” Phasma threatened. “Our leads would not have led to Pantora for nothing.” She was quiet for a few moments, observing her new captives. Even from behind her helmet you could feel her powerful, yet terrifying gaze melting right through you. “You do know of Luke Skywalker then?”

“I—of course I do. The name Skywalker is a legend,” Connor responded, although even at this point with his knees cold in the snow he still was managing to begin to break into a frantic sweat.

“I see… well, if you truly don’t have any information to help me on my mission, then you have nothing to fear.” She paused again, only shortly. “And yet, you are fearful, aren’t you?”

Connor couldn’t respond. He knew good and well at this point that Phasma was playing him—trying to creep into his insecurities and break him down from the inside in a form of interrogation. Despite knowing well what kind of situation he was in, the older man found his gaze shifting over to Steven; he would quickly, however, attempt to steer this attention back to Phasma.

But Connor’s attempts to overcome his strong panic response, only made uncontrollable by the presence of danger before his only living son, were futile. His glance towards Steven was a brief enough gesture to give Phasma enough personal information she needed in regards to the relations to the group.

“You look awfully familiar. Do you have a name?” Phasma asked next.

Again, Connor was quiet. On the outside, he was petrified. Fear had seemed to overcome him like a spreading disease; simply looking into his eyes reflected the chaos that was going on within his mind.

“If you won’t answer me, perhaps he will,” Phasma stated next, and looked over towards Steven next. “What is your name?”

“Steven…” he responded.

“Your surname?”

“Don’t talk to her!” Connor erupted, his voice mixed with terror, sadness, and anger, all jumbled together and clashing for dominance.

Phasma suddenly lifted a blaster upward and at Connor, which caused Connor to immediately cease his outward tensions and lock it back into his expression. “Do you wish to die here?” the Captain said next, her voice becoming even colder than the Pantoran air. “Lack of cooperation will make this introduction much more dragged out hand necessary. You missed your chance to speak. Let Steven talk.”

“Don’t hurt him, please!” Steven was slowly starting to be overcome with fear like his father, especially now that he had a gun pointed to his face. “My name is Steven, Steven Wheatfield.” R6 would coo sorrowfully at the situation, and seemingly guilty in consciousness for not being able to do anything to help his two masters.

Phasma chuckled maliciously. Steven’s answer seemed to be exactly what she was looking for.

“Interesting how the First Order has received countless leads to this planet, and the name of one of the Resistance finest engineers happens to be on its soil. Although I do recall Wheatfield being much older when he served… you seem far too young to be a veteran.” Phasma’s voice trailed off, her finger slowly sliding onto the trigger of her weapon as she stared back at Connor. “Unless, of course, Steven is your son.”

Utter silence took over the group then. Only the cold air, sending snowflakes falling consistently upon them managed to make a soft whisper. Phasma had all she needed, right here in front of her, in the form of a Resistance engineer, and his son. Having this kind of lead practically given to her upon setting foot on Pantora was something that brought her joy, which she didn’t particularly express often.

At that moment the troopers that had entered the home came out empty handed. It was obvious that they didn’t find anything else in the building that could help them, but Phamsa didn’t mind. She had enough kneeling before her.

“I ought to take both of you into custody for your affiliation with the Resistance,” Phasma spoke out loud. “But keeping you both alive for further interrogation would be a waste of resources. After all it only takes one of you to give me what I need.” She looked up at her troopers then, who were patiently awaiting further command. “FN-1991, FN-711, please escort the young Wheatfield into our ship.”

Immediately the two troopers did as commanded, and grabbed Steven by both arms and began to thrust him away from his home, the group, and towards their ship that had landed a few kilometers away. If panic wasn’t already set in Steven by then, it was now.

“Wait—wait, no no no! You can’t do this! Dad!” Steven wailed as he was separated from the others. Phasma was about to follow after them, but the remaining four Stormtroopers continued to stand there with Sarai, R6, and Connor.

“What should we do with the others?” one of the troopers asked.

“Kill them.” Phasma’s response came out sharply. The sting could be felt in Connor’s heart as he sunk into the notion that his life was finally coming to an end, and the last thing he would see is Steven being dragged away by the First Order. And the worst part was there was nothing he could do about it.

“Dad! Dad! Please!” Steven continued to wail. Steven was trying his best to pull away from the grip of the troopers escorting him, but it was really of no use. He had extremely minor training in physical combat during his relatively short time in the Resistance, but it was never his forte to begin with. Never until this point had he felt the sheer dread of what it meant to be helpless. There was nothing he could do to stop what was happening to him, or even to his father, and Sarai.

Sarai, however, had been utterly quiet the entire time. Not out of fear or despair, but in vigilance. Among the interrogation between Phasma and the others, she had been able to feel every enemy among her, every possible way to fight back, and foresee every ultimate outcome. Each choice—each path she took— moved time onward in a very slight different direction. Her choices were slim, but hope was not lost.

Sarai’s montrals picked up the muted clicks of the trooper’s blasters as they prepared their weapons for the execution of not only herself, but Connor as well. The sounds came to her like sonar, spreading from the blasters, into the soldiers, and among the air and snow covered earth, allowing her to see them even as she begun to close her eyes. To her, things seemed to slow down as she tapped into the Force. With this power summoned within her, she made her move quickly, and grabbed her lightsaber that she had hidden under her white and grey robes.

A loud hiss consumed the quietness of the snowy night, and among the white and blue lights of the First Order ships, a new shade of violet escaped from Sarai’s ignited lightsaber.

From behind, Steven could only hear the buzzing sound at first, unaware of what it was. Out of curiosity, however, even the troopers had stopped their procession forward to look behind them. Phasma even had found herself turned around—staring at the sudden, and unforeseen occurrence.

Instantaneously, Sarai made her move, springing from her lowly position, and swung her lightsaber through the necks of the troopers among her. It had happened so quickly that the troopers holding onto Steven at their distance stared in disbelief. Not simply because they had never seen something like this before in their enemies, but because of how unprepared they realized they were. Even Phasma, whose high self-expectations of handling the mission had been compromised. Unlike the younger men and women she currently trained and led into battle, she knew better. This wasn’t an ordinary opponent. This girl was a Jedi.

“Don’t just stand there! Fire!” Phasma commanded loudly. Her order caught the stormtroopers escorting Steven to be on high alert, shifting their confused and shocked domineers back to competent and alert warriors. One continued to hold onto Steven, while the other began to open fire at the Jedi. Phasma began to join in the attack as well, using her blaster to attempt to take out the togruta that was a few yards away.

Phasma felt frustration rising within her as she quickly saw each laser that launched from her blaster merely become deflected by the Jedi’s lightsaber. Within a few shots, Sarai managed to deflect a shot back at the trooper helping her, sending him to the ground instantly from a shot to the chest.

“Don’t just stand there you imbecile, call for backup!” Phasma hollered then to her remaining trooper, but before the command could even be registered with him, he too suddenly had a deflected shot hit him in the thigh, causing him to immediately collapse and shout out in pain.

This attack had come out of the blue, but Phasma still had the upper hand. Reinforcements from the second squadron were less than a mile away, and among them the proper means to take out the Jedi and these traitorous rebels. She quickly ceased fire to relieve any more deflected attacks and raised the comlink on her arm to call for help.

“Reinforcements are needed over by civilian homestead to your south-west! Quickly!” Phasma ordered.

By this time Steven had found himself completely freed of the troopers that had begun to take him away. In a daze, he looked to both of his sides, seeing one of the troopers lying dead, and the other completely overcome with pain as his white armor among his leg grew steadily red due to the laser fire having missed his main artery just enough to avoid cauterization, and allow the exit of blood. But even with his enemies falling at his sides, he found himself looking up, seeing Sarai standing there. Again, he couldn’t help but feel as if he had set foot into a dream. The realization that a Jedi really was here among him seemed so surreal that even he couldn’t comprehend it.

“Steven, run!” Sarai yelled, extending her hand outward to him as a minor, yet gentle reminder of assurance to get up and keep going.

Steven blinked—things were still moving in slow motion. He saw his father, Connor, watching onward from behind Sarai, just as stiff and terrified as he was.

Steven saw Connor as himself. The sensation was brief, but enough to make his heart sink into his chest. He loved his father dearly, that much was so. But in these moments of terror, it was the last thing he wanted. After all, his place was out there, doing something.

As soon as his heart skipped those beats, motion around him returned, and his eyes lifted back upward to see Sarai with her extended hand. Her violet lightsaber continued to bring an illuminated, soft, yet striking light to the snow falling around her. When her voice commanded him to run, it was more than just words; it was a true calling—a call to action.

In a sprint as hard as his legs could take him, he launched himself toward Sarai’s direction, the fear he had having shattered then into pieces like glass.

The commander of the stormtroopers couldn’t allow this. Watching her enemies try to run brought a boil to her blood. Her troops were on their way at that very second, but even at their speed it wasn’t quite enough to satisfy Phasma.

Phasma grumbled, her anger driving her to lift her weapon up once more, and aimed it at Steven, who continued to sprint to his allies. Steven’s footsteps pounding against the snow were allowed to continue for four more beats, until she pulled the trigger.

It happened so quickly that a single blink would cause one to miss it. The red laser had indeed erupted from the barrel of the captain’s weapon, but instead of hitting its target, it hovered—shivering mid-air as if the surrounding cold atmosphere had grabbed it and was holding it in place.

Phasma, in a daze of disbelief, saw the togruta’s outreached hand had turned towards her shot, and had stopped it. Again, she watched as the boy continued to run away, finally reaching his comrades, before the laser was allowed to continue on its path past the light of the ships and into the wintery night.

“Hurry up!” Sarai hollered then, grabbing the cloth of Steven’s arm before she sprinted with the two humans, along with their droid, towards the big barn and into the ship waiting inside. “Start it up!” Sarai then commanded.

Steven was starting to get into the swing of things now. The adrenaline in his body reminded him of his time training in the resistance as a pilot. The commanding officers often raised their voices to provide a sense of urgency; it was meant to prepare them for what it would feel like in a real battle.

“Yes, Sir!” Steven cried, giving a brief salute before he stumbled to the cockpit, taking a seat and ignited the engines to the ship. It purred to life instantly, the lights flickering on, and the rumble of movement overcoming the cold metal floors and walls like the resurrection of a long dead creature.

R6 couldn’t help but let out a series of gleeful beeps before it got to work itself, maneuvering to the cockpit itself and stationing its small frame next to Steven, reading to take orders when necessary. Not before long, the ship lifting up, Steven taking it out of the barn and into the night, flying over Phasma. It was here that they could see the oncoming stormtroopers, as well as a dispatch of a Tie-Fighter.

“I hope you know what you’re doing!” Connor cried then, seeing the enemies raging towards them.

“I built this gal myself,” Steven snickered, although he was still clearly nervous. It didn’t matter though. He pictured his mother in the seat with him, her hands moving his, like a ghost. This is what he was meant to do, like her before him.

He never felt more alive.

#kailey writes #sarai daan #steven wheatfield #star wars fic

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100-yardstare · 6 years

Note

multiples of 10 for Sarai Daan

Thank you!!

10. What deadly sin would best represent your OC?

Wrath probably. Sarai has a lot of insecurities with her abilities as a Jedi which have caused a lot of stress in her training to live up to a Jedi’s standard, so in return I can see her attempting to hide repressed anger. She will of course catch any outbreaks she has and will never succumb to them ultimately, but she is not devoid of aggressive breakdowns.

20. If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do?

Earth would probably seem pretty primitive, and she would think it’s odd we haven’t learned to travel the galaxy via hyperspace but other than that I don’t think it would be too different??

30. Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?

As a Jedi she probably felt no need to get married (or more rather didn’t believe it was for her to do), although she does desire relationships, which most of them have been platonic, but in her case she has had unmet possible romantic attachments before. It’s complicated for her lol she deserves better

40. Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with?

This isn’t the most fun answer but probably going out to do a mission or something, dressed in her Jedi robes obviously, and most likely with her master. She needs to get out more lol

50. If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count?

She would realize it was for the greater good, and wouldn’t fight it. If it was to sacrifice herself as a Jedi for an innocent she would gladly lay her life down. I think that she would try to see everything as a means to find understanding in both herself and how the galaxy works, so if she was going to die, she would find meaning in it.

Ask about my OC’s!

#ask meme #sarai daan #frxstguardian

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100-yardstare · 8 years

Text

On the Run

Summary: Ten years roaming the multiverse has taught Ford a lot of things, but one rule he’s kept to heart is that trust is something that you can give out in only minimal amounts. Being on the run from his own enemy, he soon finds someone else whose had similar problems. Truth be told, sometimes rules have to be broken. Even your own.

Authors Notes: Day three contribution to self-insert week. I’m still keeping up the Star Wars setting with this one. So, consider this a Star Wars/ Gravity Falls crossover.

Rating: T (for brief death sequences)

Word Count: 2,596

Aromas of a variety of alcoholic drinks, grotesque smells of sweat and must, with the sound of the seemingly endless playing intergalactic band filled the vicinity of the bar. He didn’t know what planet he was in, let alone which dimension sector he had accidentally stumbled into, but during his time there he had learned enough.

Traveling for over ten years in the multiverse, one would assume a human would have been weakened, dead by then perhaps. But not Stanford. Pure survival instinct had kept him going, and his own drive to stop an enemy in his tracks from destroying his dimension. But that same enemy was seeking him out—Bill.

Ford was always moving, always watching his back. But here, for once, it seemed he couldn’t be found. This dimension was incredibly large—so large in fact it could very well rival that of his own universe in terms of size, but in population, not so much. Ford had been through countless other sectors in his travels though the multiverse since his entrance into the portal, but the one he was living in now was galaxy wide, and filled with such a variety of species, politics and history that even despite his circumstances he often found good enough reason to be fascinated.

There were so many things to do, so many things to see… and yet danger lurked around every corner. Wonder often came to a halt in exchange for caution, and so now, Ford found himself sitting in a dark, disdainful place, watching and waiting…

A few large alien beings, muscular in tone and beastly in figure, growled at one another as if to intimidate one another. Before any sort of fight could be engaged, a smaller, but not quite so easily pushed around bartender, cleared his throat loudly, and proceeded to speak in a different tongue that Ford couldn’t understand. After that, the bar became settled again. Or at least as settled as a bar filled of fools, criminals and delinquents could be.

Ford took the opportunity to write in his journal. The six fingered symbol on the cover, golden, and against the red color seemed to be the only bright object in the room.

Just as Ford was beginning to get into depth in his documentation of the alien beings he was observing, the doors opened, and another walked into the bar. However, unlike the others, whose large and intimidating appearances were of the majority, this one was humanoid, and thus more familiar to Ford. His curiosity got the best of him, and he watched as the newcomer walked inside.

The others in the bar, however, briefly had the same idea. As the stranger walked across the bar, he started noticing some key aspects about her. She was garbed in a long black cloak, thus covering most of her appearance, but despite this he was able to identify what she looked like based on her outer appearance.

She was a female, obviously, and underneath her cloak he could see she was wearing a white and grey tunic of some kind, and at her belt was a weapon. Above the head of the cloak, two holes were made open to allow two horn-like appendages to show. She ended up sitting a few booths across from him, giving him the ability to continue his study without her noticing.

For a while, the bar was settled. No one came in, and no one left. The music shifted, and the occasional offense happened, but nothing seemed to change. That was, until a group of five soldiers clad in white armor walked through the door.

Immediately they walked up to the bartender, and showed him a graphic of an alien woman, meeting some of the very same traits as the one Ford had been studying.

“We’re looking for a Jedi. We’ve received confirmation that she went through this area and were hoping you may have witnessed her,” one of the soldiers explained, his voice slightly distorted from underneath his helmet.

Now, Ford was a vigilant man. All the while this was happening his attention continued to shift from the conversation to the front, and back over to the alien girl. She was obviously growing disturbed; her fingers were clenching the side of the table and her eyes were staring down at it as if in a desperate attempt to keep her mind on something else rather than allow herself to be overcome with fear.

To her horror, the unthinkable happened. The bartender looked her direction and pointed at her, causing the soldiers to turn their heads and see her.

“It’s her,” one of the soldiers confirmed as-a-matter-of-factly. Quickly the group rushed over and surrounded her booth, although making sure to stand back about six feet, and raised their weapons at her.

“You are under arrest by the authority of the Empire,” another trooper spoke aloud.

Ford was half excepting a plea from the girl, but instead, things took a rather awful turn.

Within a blink of an eye, the girl sat up, maneuvered behind the large booth, and with an invisible power, threw the table their direction, hitting one of the soldiers and sending him flying to the ground. The soldiers remaining at a stand released a series of laser fire in defense, but again, Ford found himself surprised by what happened next.

The girl grabbed the weapon he had noticed at her belt line, and ignited it. It took on the appearance of a blade, only it was made with light… plasma perhaps and took on a violet tone. She used it to bounce the laser fire away from her, redirecting it at two of the other troopers, killing one of them instantly with a hit to the head, and hitting another in the chest, which sent him tumbling to the ground like the one under the table.

With more than half of the group of troopers down, the girl leapt upward, as if gravity surrounding her had been lightened, and she rushed out of the bar. The remaining troopers ran after her.

“A Jedi?” Ford mumbled to himself. He had heard rumors of Jedi existing in this dimension, but he didn’t think it was actually true. Obviously though, the reason he had not seen one until now meant they were being hunted down... and he had just witnessed it happening in person. Ford knew all too well what it felt like to be hunted and wanted dead. And so, the desire to seek her out and find her before those soldiers became his new and spontaneous mission.

Ford quickly yet casually walked out of the building and to the streets outside. The planet was currently entering its night cycle, and so the streets were dimmed with only the help of a few lamp-like objects hovering among the side posts. But he wouldn’t need sight necessarily to find her; he could hear the commotion down within the alleyways.

“Find her!” one of the troopers voice called out. Ford was already making his way around the back alleys, making sure to avoid being noticed by the troopers himself. The good thing was that the troopers had lost her… for now. The bad news was that could change very quickly.

Ford navigated quickly around the area, and soon, he’d turn a corner where he would find the Jedi hiding.

Immediately and before he could speak, he was suddenly lifted up by the unknown force he had witnessed the Jedi perform to attack the soldiers in white. It was a rather helpless feeling, really, but it by no means felt as if it was life threatening. At least at the moment.

“Who are you and why are you following me?” the Jedi sneered. One arm was lifted, obviously controlling the power that was lifting him. For a moment Ford couldn’t help but be baffled, and yet a little awed by this. Every dimension had its similarities and differences, but nowhere had he seen anything like this. Something about this place—this alternate galaxy, was filled with strange properties even beyond what he had seen in his travels.

“I mean you no harm!” Ford gasped, although managing to keep his voice low enough to not cause attention to the soldiers seeking her. “I’m a friend. I’m here to help you.”

“Why would you want to do that?” the Jedi asked, obviously suspicious. She had every right to be.

“Look, I know what kind of situation you’re in,” Ford began to explain. “I don’t know why these soldiers are killing Jedi, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is I’m here to help you get away. I’m perfectly capable of spotting injustice when I see it.”

The Jedi eyed him momentarily, and then set Ford down, allowing him to stand on his own two feet once again. Ford felt the need to look himself over, as if to make sure nothing had changed about him due to being under the influence of the invisible power.

“But why should I believe you’re any different?” the Jedi asked, almost bitterly, but unlike most bitter remarks this one stemmed from a tiresome sigh, as if trusting anyone was something she had not done in a long time. Ford even found himself recalling his own feelings on the subject… who could you trust? His own motto even was not to trust anyone; but her… she was different. She wasn’t like Bill that would try and hurt him. Just by looking at her you could tell she was inherently good, which was something that Ford had not seen in an individual in years.

“You! Stop!” It happened too soon, but again, Ford saw this potentially coming. Two soldiers had spotted them from down the alley, and were calling in reinforcements. There was no time to waste, but Ford already had an idea. On his way in he recalled spotting a group of ships; obviously from these guys. It wouldn’t be safe to keep a stolen airship for long, but to have one just long enough to get off the planet would be fine.

Ford extended his hand outward, in full, exposing his bare, six fingered hand that he had rarely ever extended openly to anyone back in his home dimension. Here though, he didn’t have to worry about folks seeing his strange ‘anomaly’. After all, this woman was an alien, so seeing someone with six fingers was probably the least strange on her list of things she had seen.

“Do you trust me?” Ford asked, simply yet sternly. He waited anxiously as the Jedi made up her mind.

The woman didn’t speak. Instead, she grasped his hand, and the two rushed away down the ally in search of the ships Ford had seen earlier.

Getting away was like a game of cat and mouse at this point. Every other corner an enemy found them, and so a different route was needed in order to go around them. Slowly, but surely though, numbers of the white troopers were growing larger, and soon Ford felt as if they were slowly being surrounded.

“They’re everywhere!” the Jedi gasped. The air was filled with sounds of stomping boots as the troopers processed further around them in the alleys. Soon, shadows of the troopers could be seen coming around both corners from behind and ahead of them.

“Stop right there!” another trooper demanded. The group ahead of them made it to their ground first, at least four making up the troopers numbers. The group from behind soon caught up, adding another three. Ultimately, they were surrounded.

“Who is he?” one of the troopers asked, referring to Ford. A different soldier brought out another hologram projector and scanned through a variety of files in attempts to identify Ford. However, their search was coming up empty.

“Doesn’t look like he’s registered in our database,” the trooper with the device confirmed. “Arrest him, and kill the Jedi.”

“Get down,” the Jedi whispered over to Ford. He turned his head to look at her, looking at her only briefly, before he did exactly as she said and hunkered down. At that moment, was when the Jedi fought back.

The troopers were coming in close to arrest Ford, thus surrounding them in a circle. The one trooper with the device stood back to let his six other teammates surround them.

The Jedi hunkered herself, but then spun upward, igniting her blade, and extended her arms. As she fell back down, the purple blade of light struck all six of the troopers, cutting off two of the heads of the group, and slicing open the armor of the rest. The one trooper that had stood back immediately raised his laser gun to fire at the Jedi, but before he managed to pull the trigger, Ford leapt forward and tackled him to the ground, and then turned the laser on him and shot him with his own weapon.

They had taken care of this group, but more were bound to come. The Jedi grabbed Ford’s arm, and they started running again. With their freed up space from being followed, they were able to find a docking-like area with a variety of ships.

“We need to destroy those TIE-fighters,” the Jedi spoke, gesturing to the oddly engineered ships. Her attention fell to another ship of a different design, which was the one which was chosen to take for themselves. There were a few troopers scouting about, but the Jedi and Ford acted quickly enough, avoiding any laser fire, entered, and started the ship. The Jedi took control of the ship herself, and fired upon the other docked vessels, ultimately disabling them, and triggered the aircraft to shoot upward into the sky. She soon set the route needed to enter hyperspace.

Some retaliation of the soldiers on the ground was attempted by firing at the ship they boarded, but nothing could quite damage the ship. At least not with weapons of that caliber. It wasn’t before long the Jedi managed to pilot the ship high enough and through the planet’s atmosphere to trigger the hyperspace jump.

The second space and time warped around them, exchanging the seemingly endless and black void with the hue of the blue jet stream of hyperspace, was when the Jedi sighed. It was as if relief was something that did not come often for her.

“Thank you…” she said, looking out the windshield momentarily before turning her gaze to Ford, who was sitting beside her in the passenger’s seat. “I don’t think I would have made it out of that one without your help.”

“It was nothing,” Ford said with a smile. “That certainly was a new experience for me.”

“You might as well get used to that now… since you helped me the Empire is bound to look for you due to charges of treason.”

“I’m not worried about them,” Ford answered, briefly his smile drifting as he thought about his own pursuer that wanted him gone. “You know, I never did catch your name.”

“Oh, well when you’re running away from people who want to kill you I guess a name slips your mind,” the Jedi joked. She reached backward with both hands and removed the cloak hood from her head, finally revealing her full face to Ford. She exchanged her own smile to him.

“My name is Sarai,” she said. “What’s yours?”

“Stanford. But you can just call me Ford for short.” He chuckled slightly. Out of his ten years of travels through the multiverse, he had finally met someone he could trust.

#kailey writes #stanford #sarai daan #star wars #gravity falls #crossover #self insert week 2016 #fanfiction

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