Star Wars: Starkiller

It seemed like hours had passed, and still no sign of Ezra. Patience, if I ever had any, was running out fast. Every minute that passed without a sign of the boy only confirmed what I already suspected: it had been a mistake to follow the Jedi and his useless Padawan here.

The place was a maze of traps waiting to activate. Any attempt to find a way out without the right key would probably bury us both under tons of stone.

"What a bad idea it was to follow the Jedi and his apprentice," I thought with irritation as I cast a glance toward Kanan. He, on the other hand, was sitting on the ground, cross-legged, seemingly at peace with himself.

It was infuriating. While I was trying to assess every possibility, he seemed... unconcerned.

"I sense great anger coming from you," Kanan said suddenly, without opening his eyes, breaking the silence. His tone was neutral, but there was a tinge of warning in his words. "Do you have something to share?"

"Yes," I replied without hesitation, turning to him. "That your precious ward will never get us out of here and that it was a bad idea to come."

Kanan opened his eyes slowly, his gaze fixed on mine. But there was no anger in his eyes, not even frustration, which only succeeded in irritating me more. "Ezra will get us out of here," he said calmly. "I trust him."

"You trust him?" I repeated skeptically, taking a step toward him. "You trust a guy who can't keep his concentration long enough to keep a door from closing. That's not trust, that's foolishness."

"You think so?" asked Kanan, slowly rising to face me. "That trusting someone is foolish?"

"When that trust can cost you your life, yes," I replied coldly. "Trust is a luxury one cannot afford."

Kanan studied me for a moment, as if trying to unravel something hidden in my words. "You speak as one who has been betrayed." He said finally, his tone soft but firm.

My eyes narrowed, and for an instant I thought about looking away, but I forced myself to maintain eye contact. "It has nothing to do with that," I replied, though my voice lost some of its initial hardness. "I simply understand that relying on others is a weakness. If you want to survive, you rely on yourself. No one else."

"That's what you think," Kanan said, crossing his arms. "But that way of thinking only leads you to isolation. And isolation isn't strength, it's fear."

"I'm not afraid." I replied in a curt tone.

Kanan let out a slight sigh, as if I were talking to a stubborn pupil. "Then tell me, Galen, why don't you trust anyone?"

I didn't answer right away. There was a part of me that wanted to cut him off with a sarcastic retort, but something in his gaze stopped me.

"It's none of your business," I finally said, my tone lower, almost like a growl.

Kanan didn't look away from me. "Maybe it isn't," he admitted. "But I think there's something in you that you know is broken. And it won't get fixed until you face what made you this way."

"You don't need to fix what works." I replied coolly, turning my back on him.

"Do you really think it 'works'?" asked Kanan from behind me. "Because what I see is someone who is alone. And not because there are no people around, but because he won't let anyone in."

His words echoed in the silence of the temple. I wanted to ignore them, to dismiss them as mere attempts by a Jedi to lecture. But I couldn't help but be affected by them, if only minimally.

"Ezra trusts me," Kanan continued. "And I trust him. I know he'll make mistakes, but I don't let those mistakes define my faith in him. That's what it means to be a teacher. Has anyone ever trusted you like that?"

I didn't answer. For the first time, I felt unable to articulate a proper response. The image of Vader fleetingly crossed my mind, a cold, imposing shadow. The idea that he would have trusted me was absurd. He trusted no one. There was no trust, only orders, obedience and fear of failure.

Kanan seemed to notice my silence, but did not press it. Instead, he simply added, "Trust is not a weakness, Galen. It's what connects us to others. And it's what can save us when we think we're lost."

His words hung in the air as he sat back down, resuming his meditation. I watched him for a few seconds, and for the first time I found myself questioning. How could someone like him trust someone like Ezra so much? How could he depend on another without doubting their intentions or abilities?

And then I realized what irritated me so much. It wasn't his faith in Ezra that bothered me. It was the fact that I had never known anything like it. Not with Vader. Not with anyone.

I turned away from Kanan, trying to stifle the thoughts that were beginning to crowd my mind. But his voice still echoed inside me, even as I tried to ignore it.

Maybe, just maybe, there was something in what he was saying that deserved consideration.

"Consider it has, eh?" suddenly said an unfamiliar voice, deep but quiet, echoing in my mind like a distant echo. I was instantly on my feet, alert, my hand on the saber hanging from my belt.

"Who are you? Who is there?" I answered aloud, my eyes scanning the gloom of the temple. The voice did not come from Kanan, who was still silently meditating a few feet away from me, completely oblivious to what was happening.

"A threat I am not," the voice said, clearer this time, but still ethereal, as if coming from all directions at once. "A question I only asked."

"What question?" I demanded, my tone laden with distrust.

"Consider the words of that Jedi, will you or won't you, curious I am." He replied.

I frowned, my grip on the saber tightening. "I have no idea who you are, but I don't trust the words of a stranger messing with my head."

A faint whisper of laughter echoed in my mind, not mocking, but wise, almost... patient. "In your mind, I've gotten myself not. Here I was, waiting. The Force, my guide is. And in it, a storm I see in you."

"A storm?" I repeated skeptically, though a part of me knew I wasn't lying. I had felt that storm inside me for as long as I could remember. Chaos, anger, doubt...everything I had learned to repress in order to survive.

"Yes. Conflict I see. A dark past, a shadow that haunts you."

The words hit something inside me, and I took a step back, feeling my breathing quicken. "What do you know about me?"

"More than you think, less than you fear. But important is not what I know. Important, what you know is."

"Cut the riddles," I growled, though the calm in his voice made my own tone seem hollow. "If you have something to say to me, say it at once."

"Calm, young storm," the voice replied, its tone gentle. "Menace I am not. Much pain in you I feel...and much anger."

I frowned, my grip on the saber tightening. "How do you know that?"

"In the Force, everything is seen. Like a river, it flows and connects. And in you, a turbulent storm flows."

I took a deep breath, trying to suppress the growing discomfort I felt. That voice spoke with a clarity I couldn't ignore, and yet there was no point in trusting something I couldn't even see.

"What do you want?" I asked finally, my tone more defensive than curious.

The voice remained calm, but his next statement hit like a rock. "Completely corrupted by the dark side, you weren't. Not yet."

I froze, feeling those words pierce through the layers of my armor. "What do you know about it?" I whispered, my tone laden with disbelief and something I didn't want to admit: fear.

"Darkness, much of it in you there is. But light too, though small and hidden. Pain you carry, anger too. But chosen, you can always be. Your path, decide you must."

"I am nothing like those Jedi you speak of," I replied quickly, intending to close the conversation. "I am not like them. I don't follow their ideals, and I don't care to."

"Ideals, you follow of the Sith then?"

The silence that followed was heavier than I expected. I wanted to answer immediately, but the words stuck in my throat.

"You have no clear answers because, within you, conflict there is," the voice continued. "A master you had. Dark, cruel, controlling. But corrupted through and through, you were not. A spark in you still lives, young storm. That spark, protect you can... or extinguish."

I took a step forward, almost as if trying to physically confront the voice. "You have no idea what I've lived through. Of what I've done."

"Wrong I am not," he replied serenely. "Darkness, I know. In many I have seen it. But in you ... redemption still possible is."

That word, redemption, made me grit my teeth. "Why do you care?"

"Because in every corner of the Force, possibilities I see. In you, more than shadows there are. Very powerful you are, but consuming you the anger is, however the choice, yours will be. Follow the path you know, or create a new one."

I stood still, the words echoing in my mind in a way I could not ignore. For so long I had lived trapped in a cycle of obedience, fear and violence. I had always assumed that was my fate. But what did what this voice was saying mean?

"Choose you can, young storm," the voice said one last time, as if it felt it didn't need to say more. "The dark side, powerful it is. But not eternal. Nor invincible."

And, with that, the presence disappeared, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I looked up at Kanan, still immersed in his meditation, completely oblivious to what had just happened.

I didn't know what to think. That voice had spoken with a clarity that seemed impossible to ignore, but accepting what it said was something I couldn't allow myself to do... yet. Nevertheless, the words stayed with me:

"Completely corrupted by the dark side, you were not. Not yet."

Silence filled the room again. I didn't know what to say.

"Hey, I'm back!" Ezra's voice abruptly broke my thoughts, filling the air with a renewed energy that contrasted with the solemn atmosphere of the temple.

"How are you?" asked Kanan, smiling to see his apprentice safe and sound.

"Different, but the same," Ezra replied, though there was something in his tone, something more mature, firmer, that he hadn't noticed before.

"That's good." Kanan said, clearly relieved.

I slowly approached them, crossing my arms as I assessed the boy with my eyes. "So you succeeded in what you were looking for," I said in a neutral tone, though my curiosity seeped slightly into my words.

Ezra nodded and held out his hand, opening it to reveal a small, bright blue Kyber crystal that seemed to emit a faint glow, as if it were alive.

"A Kyber crystal? Interesting." I murmured, watching it closely.

Kanan, on the other hand, looked surprised, but also proud. His eyes sparkled as he observed the crystal in his apprentice's hands.

"What is a Kyber crystal?" Asked Ezra curiously, his eyes shifting from the crystal to its master.

"It is the heart of a lightsaber," Kanan explained with a smile, placing a hand on Ezra's shoulder. "The crystal syncs with its wearer, reflecting their connection to the Force. It's more than just a crystal shard, Ezra. It is a link between you and the Force."

Ezra looked at the crystal in his hand with a mixture of awe and reverence, as if he had just understood its significance. "So... this means I'm ready to build a saber?"

"Let's say yes." Kanan replied.

The moment was suddenly interrupted by the movement of the temple. The walls began to vibrate and the ground beneath our feet shook slightly as an opening in the rock revealed itself, showing the exit.

"Ah! Well, that's a surprise." Ezra said, relieved but excited.

"The temple is letting us go," Kanan commented, watching the opening carefully. "You accepted it, and now it lets you leave."

Once we exited the temple and started heading for the Phantom, we heard the stones behind us move again, closing the temple again, sinking it into the earth as if it had never been there.

"I still can't believe you found a Kyber crystal here," Kanan said as we walked toward the ship. "It's a big step, Ezra. One that many Jedi don't accomplish in a lifetime."

"Yeah, I can't believe it either," Ezra replied, with a mixture of pride and humility as he continued to stare at his crystal. "It was like...I was meant to find it."

As they spoke, I walked a few paces behind, immersed in my own thoughts. The temple was still weighing on my mind, not because of what had happened physically, but because of what it had left within me.

Kanan's trust in his apprentice was something I could not ignore. Even in the face of uncertainty, he had believed in him, had given him a chance to prove himself. And Ezra, somehow, had succeeded.

I couldn't help but compare it to my own experience. Had anyone ever trusted me like that? No. Darth Vader had never given me a real choice, had never shown faith in me. To him, I was always a tool, a weapon to accomplish his goals.

For a moment, I felt a pang of envy for Ezra. His path was not easy, but he had something I never had: someone who believed in him.

I looked at the Kyber crystal in his hands as he and Kanan continued to talk. That small stone symbolized something I had always been denied: a real connection to something greater than myself.

I walked silently behind them, my mind torn between what had been and what could be.