Destiny Eclipse/Chapter II

-- 4 ABY - 1 Month after Endor --

Tatooine – Vos Homestead
The creaking of their old speeder indicated her son’s return from his daily visits to his friend Jysek. Lysa Sornfree sighed, watching as the speeder came to a rumbling halt, her son dutifully hopping off as the droid returned it to its hangar, before exiting the craft itself, returning to shadow Xander and make sure he remained out of harm’s way whilst Lysa made the family’s dinner.

As a Jedi Knight, she had served in the Clone Wars on Maridun, seeing the deaths of her friends, feeling the gut wrenching betrayal as she had witnessed from afar the Clones turning upon their allies, cutting them down with cold precision. She had been lucky they had not found her, and to this day, no one knew she had served on that planet, had become the one branded the “Maridun Mystery” by the Empire’s officials as they searched for her. Not even her husband or son.

The cold bleakness here on Tatooine was a harsh reality she forced herself through. Her husband, twenty years her junior, though age mattered not to the pair, more in love then anything, and unable to deny their feelings for one another, slaved away all day. He returned to the hovel at night for a meal before curling up in their bed next to his betrothed, before awakening early the next morning and returning to set up the moisture vaporator.

He continued to promise her that before long he would be able to hire droid hands to do the work for him. He promised he that that would mean that he would be able to spend all day and all night with her, the two would finally be able to live out their dream. But then there was Xander. It was obvious to Lysa that her son didn’t belong on Tatooine, that the rest of his life belonged elsewhere, not here, slaving his heart away just to put a few scraps on the table.

Having a friend like Jysek didn’t help matters, the rich boy befriending Xander under innocent conditions, the two being true friends. He was slowly, unintentionally putting dreams and longings in Xander’s head, of flying away from this barren world, of fighting in the Rebellion, of becoming a Jedi.

That last thought caused a stone of dread to drop in Lysa’s stomach. Since Xander had been born, it had been clear that the descendant from the two famed Jedi was powerful in the Force, more attuned to it than she had ever been.

Since he had been four, he had begun finding lost things by levitating them, and revealing them. Desperate for him to have a normal life, she had begun scolding him and punishing him when she caught him using these powers.

Slowly, over time, he had stopped using them, genuinely believing them to be bad for him and his family, seeing it just as he saw being toilet trained, as a necessity for young children, assuming all children had gone through the stage he had.

When news had filtered through of the Emperor’s death at Endor several days ago, Korto and Lysa had seriously begun discussing allowing him to venture out into the Galaxy, and find his destiny, for it was clear he belonged amongst the Jedi, or at the very least the Rebellion. Korto still refused to think of ever letting his only son leave them forever, and venture out to find the Jedi, even though Lysa knew that at heart he knew it was inevitable. He knew that when Xander was old enough and began hearing about the Jedi of old, he would understand that his parents had lied to him and leave regardless.

Lysa snapped out of her reverie, as the tone on the cooker went off, and she rushed to pull the food from the cooker as Korto walked in, talking and laughing with Xander, who looked especially excited. He had obviously not told Korto the news, though, as he was basically ignoring Korto, as if wishing to get a word in to tell his news.

The smell of the settling food reached Lysa’s nose, as Korto and Xander sat at the table, awaiting her and her delicious home recipe. She quietly sat down as a droid put the finishing touches on it and brought it to the table on a hover-trolley.

“So, I got some great news from Jysek today,” Xander chimed in, his eyes shining brightly, as his father’s eyes snapped to cover Xander’s face, his attention riveted to the boy.

“What is it son? He got some new toy from his father? That man spoils his son in my opinion,” Korto said, sniffing haughtily, showing his distaste for the family he so regularly called snobs.

“Korto,” Lysa said, placing a placating hand on her husband’s arm, reminding him that, while the fathers didn’t get along, the sons certainly did, and that meant that Korto should try, at least when Xander was around.

Korto sighed, in resignation as much as in defeat, “I’m sorry, go on son,” he said, trying to sound genuinely curious, though failing by Lysa’s mark. Xander continued oblivious.

“Jysek said his Papa found two rusted X-Wing fighters in the desert, that hes gonna try and fix them, and give me and Jysek one each,” Xander said, “Can you believe it? My very own ship!”

Korto’s head snapped around to Lysa, a glare evident on his face, “Let me get my hands on that George,” he muttered, hands wringing the flimso-napkin in his lap, as if demonstrating what he would do to Jysek’s father. “Putting false hope in my son’s heart, and encouraging him to leave the planet, even though he knows where I stand on it.”

“Korto, the man can do what he chooses. It was Jysek who told Xander, not George, so taking your anger out on him would be pointless,” Lysa said, a small smile creeping onto her face. Even though the news saddened her, it also gave her delight, that finally Xander may have a way to escape this wretched world, and make a name for himself in the Rebellion, or in a new Jedi Order, if ever one would re-appear.

Xander glanced between his two parents, confused by their emotions. His father looked as if he wanted something to hit, to vent his anger at what Xander thought would make them happy. His mother looked as delighted as he had hoped his father would be.

“That’s wonderful,” Lysa said to Xander, a smile beaming across her face, “I’m sure your father will teach you how to fly it, won’t you Korto?” She said, giving him a small kick under the table. “What? Oh, yes, of course I will teach you son. Did I ever tell you that tale about the time I flew a YT-2400 craft from Mos Horga to Mos Eisley? I flew half way around Tatooine followed by a group of pirates...” Korto droned on, Xander burying his face in his hands, as he’d heard this, seemingly, only exciting tale his father had to tell countless times.

Lysa saw the look on her son’s face and, noticing he had finished, took his plate and put it on the tray, “Perhaps you would like to go to bed, son? It’s been a big day.”

Glad for an excuse to leave the table, Xander nodded enthusiastically, hopping down, and running to his room, probably intent on playing another game of Speeder Chase, though Lysa had no doubt that if she walked in, he would be speaking of arming the Torpedos, and linking lasers.

She turned to her husband, “Korto? When are you going to let him go? When are you going to let him live his life?”

Korto turned to her, in surprise, “Lysa, hes ten years old. Hes barely begun at the local school, so why should we even be discussing this? Other boys his age have no desire to leave home yet, they just want to get on with work, and perhaps start noticing girls, or boys, depending on who they are,” Korto said, in a gruff voice indicating he didn’t want to pursue the topic.

Lysa pressed him anyway, “But you know as well as I that Xander is no ordinary boy, that his abilities far surpass even your own.”

Korto glanced around, as if Imperial spies could burst from the adjoining rooms, stun cuffs at the ready, “Hush! Don’t you remember that we agreed never to speak of that?”

“Oh come on Korto, the Emperor is dead, the Empire weakened beyond repair. Perhaps the Jedi Order is on the mend. I have heard rumours that Luke Skywalker was the one to defeat Darth Vader, that he may be the son of Anakin Skywalker. That means he may have the Force running through his blood, that the Jedi could return.”

“Nevertheless, I don’t want my son making a target of himself for some Imperial hotshot assassin. If that Academy I saw in my visions was a current one...” Korto voice faltered, realising he had said too much already.

Lysa perked up, her attention riveted upon her husband’s face, “Academy? You mean a Jedi Academy? Where? Korto Vos, if you refuse to tell me...”

“I don’t no where,” Korto snapped, with uncharacteristic tension in his voice, “But yes, it had a Council, upon which the Force was strong, several initiates who practised lightsaber skills, what else could it be? I feel that the vision may not have been present, but it was not far in the past, and only perhaps one or two years in the future. It exists as a possible Academy for our son, but I fear that if he develops his skills, he will never see us again, that he will thrust himself into danger again and again, merely to prove himself to us, to his peers and Apprentices. He would do it as easily as you to your Master, like I did to my father,” at that point, Korto choked on his words, emotion welling up, as it did every time he mentioned his father. He had never known his father, the man having left him when he was very young, either to try his luck against the Empire, or find Jedi on the Holonews and warn them into hiding.

“You can’t see yourself as your father. Your son loves you, and would never think that you pushed him out into the galaxy, all alone. We should at least ask him if he wishes to go. George won’t have finished repairing the craft for a month or two tops, so we would have plenty of time to farewell him if he did choose to go, and so much the better for you if he chose to remain here by your side.”

Korto nodded, finally accepting the choice that he had denied to choose for years, “Very well, I will tell him in the morning. Until then, lets just be a family, not Jedi, merely people, enjoying the ones they love, and rejoicing in the time we have with each other.”

Lysa smiled gently, rubbing his arm, “I know it will be hard for you, my love, but it is his time, as it was for all Jedi children. His time has come later then most, but remember, the Chosen One was brought into the Order at the age of nine, and died heroically trying to save it at the Temple against Darth Vader. Our son is merely one year older, and not from the emotional scarring that Skywalker was from. He will achieve great things, that one.”

Bakura – Jedi Academy
Chaos reigned at the usually calm Academy. Ever since the Emperor’s death, loud rejoicing had torn through the facilities in the remote regions of the mountains of Bakura.

Jedi Council Members Vikro, and Koras had been frantic, trying to boost security measures around the area, worried that the Imperial outpost that had been stationed on Bakura for the last ten years may have heard these thunderous celebrations, and may attempt to investigate.

More problems had ensued in recent days with the Ssi-Ruuk invasion of the world, and the grand amount of attention the world was receiving throughout the Galaxy. The lizard-like race had burnt away large portions of the forest around the Academy, destroying, pillaging, and stealing all they could find.

The shield-generator and cloaking device surrounding the Academy had been strong enough, and the Ssi-Ruuk had moved on. Finally, the Rebellion had arrived, beating back the monsters, and Koras just hoped that all would return to usual soon.

He stood on a mountain peak near the Academy, surveying the capital city of the region, and the smoke billowing from it. He shook his head silently, his ears grace fully moving in the light wind, the pain in his heart immense, as he sensed each death come as a crippling blow to him.

“How are you, my friend?” Vikro said, from behind the Togrutan, a small, sad smile appearing on his face as he saw the small tear sliding down Koras’ orange cheek.

“Oh, hello Vikro, I apologise, I didn’t sense you. The chaos is causing me so much pain, I’m afraid I have put a barrier up, trying to block the Force’s impressions on me, each death is too crippling for me to bear for much longer.”

“Don’t apologise, Koras, I’ve done much the same,” Vikro said, moving to stand next to Koras and stare out into the sea of green forest in direct contrast to the orange and black flames billowing throughout the city.

“Have you had any more visions following yesterday’s one? Koras asked, not taking his eyes from the devastation.

“Only one,” Vikro answered, “The boy from the first was boarding an X-Wing, leaving his sandy home, and searching. Searching for what, I don’t know,” Vikro said frowning, his forehead wrinkling in confusion, “We must keep watch, for its possible his destination was here. He is a powerful being in the Force after all. I could feel that from here.”

Koras nodded, his voice seeming distant, “But is he destined to bring about greatness for our order, or leave in shadows?”

“I wonder that with every powerful recruit,” Vikro said, thoughtfully, “We must trust that the Force will guide us down the correct path, and not lead us astray. For without the Force, what do we have?”