Star Wars: Starkiller

Once Sabine and I got our rations, we sat at a nearby table. I wasn't used to these kinds of interactions, so I focused on my food, trying to ignore the bustle of the room. However, I couldn't help but notice Sabine's subtle yet frequent glances in my direction. It was constant, but discreet. I couldn't decipher her intentions, so every time she looked away, I instinctively did the same, returning a cold and calculating gaze—a reflex of self-preservation rather than genuine curiosity.

As I observed her more closely, my mind, trained to assess any potential threat, analyzed her figure. Sabine had a well-trained physique; her musculature spoke of someone accustomed to combat and rigorous training. This was a stark contrast to the women I had encountered under the Empire: elegant figures molded to present perfection to their superiors. Sabine, on the other hand, was practical, functional. There was an authenticity about her that I recognized, even if I didn't fully understand it.

Without realizing it, she caught me staring. Her eyes locked onto mine with a mix of challenge and mischief, as if amused by the fact that I had been analyzing her.

"Something you want to ask?" she said with a sarcastic tone and a smile that bordered on mockery.

I quickly looked away, uncomfortable at being caught. Clearing my throat, I tried to sound neutral.

"No... I was just observing your armor. You're a Mandalorian, aren't you?"

She raised an eyebrow, as if my answer wasn't entirely convincing.

"Yeah, that's right." She said casually, though I sensed a slight interest in her tone.

"Interesting. I've never seen armor like yours. It's… different."

Sabine smiled, but this time it wasn't mocking. It was a genuine smile, as if she found my words unexpectedly intriguing.

"Well, I like to customize it. Why not be honest about who I am?" she replied naturally.

My attention briefly shifted to the wall behind her, where I noticed a spray-painted design I hadn't seen before. It was bold, full of geometric shapes and sharp lines. The style felt vaguely familiar.

"Is that your work?" I asked, gesturing slightly with my head.

Sabine turned to look at the painting, then back at me with mild surprise.

"Yeah, it is. Why?"

I remained silent for a moment before responding. It wasn't a conversation I had expected to have.

"It seems inspired by Mandalorian cubism."

For a moment, her expression lit up. Surprise gave way to a mix of incredulity and curiosity.

"You… know about Mandalorian cubism?"

"I studied it in the past." My answer was brief, like most of my words, but it was enough to keep her interested.

"Wow… I wasn't expecting that." She said, her tone shifting. She was no longer the sarcastic Mandalorian from earlier. Now she seemed genuinely intrigued.

Sabine began to talk about her passion for art, describing how each stroke and color reflected her story and connection to Mandalore. I responded concisely, offering fragments of knowledge about artistic expressions I had encountered during missions for Vader. Although my tone remained distant, something in her enthusiasm made my responses feel less automatic. For moments, I even forgot my initial reluctance, and the conversation flowed with a surprising ease.

However, my attention shifted as I heard voices approaching. Zeb and Ezra entered the room, interrupting our conversation. Zeb plopped down in a chair across from us with a carefree energy that felt strange to me.

"How are you settling in, new guy?" the Lasat asked in a casual tone.

"Fine," I replied briefly, keeping my tone neutral.

"Relax, we're not in an Imperial barracks," Zeb joked, laughing as he pointed at Ezra. "Look at this kid. The day we met him, he tried to steal from us."

Ezra instantly blushed and crossed his arms.

"That's not true. You were stealing from the Empire, and I just… took what was mine."

"Sure, whatever you say, kid."

Their back-and-forth continued, filled with jokes and laughter that contrasted sharply with the seriousness I was accustomed to. Sabine gave me an amused look.

"Are they always like this?" I asked quietly, trying to understand their dynamic.

"Yeah, though sometimes they're worse," she replied with a smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

I wasn't sure how to process what I was seeing. This crew… they didn't function like soldiers or a group ruled by fear. They were something else. A unit. A family.

That thought hit me harder than I expected, stirring something within me that I had suppressed for years: envy. I couldn't remember ever feeling anything like it before. They had something I had always lacked.

My silence stretched on, and it was Sabine who broke it.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just… thinking," I replied, avoiding her gaze.

Sabine didn't press further, but something in her expression made me feel as though she had seen more than I wanted to reveal. That feeling unsettled me; I wasn't used to being read by others, especially not so casually.

Suddenly, the Twi'lek appeared again through a doorway that seemed to lead to the cockpit. I had noticed her before, though I hadn't interacted much with her. "I think her name was Hera," I thought as she walked toward us with confident steps.

"Hey, guys," she greeted, with a casualness that seemed typical of her. The rest responded almost in unison, as if it were a deeply ingrained habit. Her gaze soon fell on me, and I found myself studying her inquisitive eyes.

"So… Galen, are you feeling better?" Hera asked, maintaining a kind tone, though I sensed an underlying subtext: she was evaluating me.

"Yes," I replied simply. I didn't see the need to elaborate, and my tone, as always, remained neutral. Hera seemed slightly disappointed with my response, as though she'd expected me to offer more details.

"What do you think of the Ghost?" she tried again, changing the subject.

"It's fine."

My answer was just as concise, but that didn't seem to deter her. She gave me a polite smile, though her eyes betrayed her persistence. It was clear she wanted to know more. I could feel it.

She probably wants to know how I ended up in space, I thought, holding her gaze for a moment. Before she could continue her subtle interrogation, a familiar figure appeared from the same corridor Hera had just come through.

'The Jedi.'

"So, Hera, have you told our guest the good news yet?"

The comment made me glance up slightly. A flicker of confusion crossed my mind, though I didn't let it show on my face. Looking around, I noticed I wasn't the only one confused. It seemed only Hera understood what the Jedi was referring to.

"Uh, what good news?" The Lasat asked, frowning as Sabine raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Well, we talked it over with Hera and thought it might be a good idea for Galen to stay with us for a while," the Jedi replied with a nonchalance that caught me off guard.

My thoughts came to a halt for a moment. Although the idea wasn't entirely unexpected—after all, my connection to the Force wouldn't have gone unnoticed by him—it still felt strange. The prospect of staying with them was, in some ways, unsettling. I wasn't used to being around others, let alone living with such an eclectic group.

"Seriously, he's staying with us? He's not bunking in my room, is he? It's already too much with the kid," the Lasat commented, throwing a glance toward Ezra, prompting the latter to immediately shoot back an irritated retort.

I ignored their exchange. My focus was fixed on the Jedi, who was looking directly at me, awaiting my response.

"Listen," he continued, his tone more serious now, "I know I didn't trust you much at first, but I've realized that the Force brought you to us for a reason. It wouldn't be wise to ignore that. So… what do you say?"

He extended his hand toward me, offering what seemed to be a formal welcome. A brief silence followed as I considered my options. Finally, I stood up and shook his hand firmly, though my expression remained impassive.

"Thank you. I won't let you down," I replied, my tone confident but lacking enthusiasm.

The Jedi smiled, apparently satisfied with my response. That's when I felt a strong hand rest on my shoulder.

"So, you're part of the team now, huh? Welcome," said the Lasat, giving me a pat on the back. The gesture might have felt awkward to anyone, but I didn't flinch.

"It'll be nice to have someone on the team who appreciates good art," added Sabine as she stepped closer, offering a slight smile.

"I hope we can train together as Jedi in the future," Ezra said, his enthusiasm palpable.

Though I tried not to show it, his words sparked a subtle conflict within me. Jedi.

"I'll try," I replied finally, keeping my tone neutral.

"Awesome! More Jedi training," Ezra exclaimed, visibly excited. His energy was… peculiar. On one hand, his childlike enthusiasm was irritating. On the other, it stirred an inexplicable curiosity within me.

The conversation continued for a while, with Hera explaining some of the basic rules of the ship and the Lasat throwing sarcastic comments here and there. As I listened, I noticed something I hadn't perceived before: despite their differences, there was a connection between them, something deep and genuine.

'They are a family.'

The word echoed in my mind, not as a simple thought but as a profound resonance that brought with it a disturbance in the Force. My breathing slowed, and suddenly, fragmented images began invading my mind.

A dark forest. Tall trees whose trunks seemed to stretch toward a starless sky. An imposing figure advancing through the undergrowth, its mechanical breathing echoing like a sinister drum. Darth Vader?

Then, a flash of light. Blue. Red. Two lightsabers clashing in a fierce duel. The image abruptly cut off, as if my own mind refused to process it.

Another scene appeared: a destroyed cabin, fire consuming the remains. A man lay on the ground, motionless, as a dark presence slowly approached. And there, among the debris, small hands held a lightsaber they didn't seem capable of wielding.

A scream echoed in my head. "Run!"

The word struck me like a blaster shot. My body tensed, and my eyes focused on nothing in particular. The feeling of being trapped in something distant yet terribly familiar overwhelmed me completely. I didn't understand what any of it meant, but the pressure in my chest became unbearable.

"Are you okay?"

Sabine's voice snapped me out of that state, pulling me back to the present. I blinked a few times, trying to process what had just happened, though the fragments were already slipping away from my mind, as if they had never been there.

"Yes, I'm just… tired," I lied, straightening up as I tried to regain my composure.

The others looked at me, but no one pressed further. Hera took the lead, steering the conversation back to the ship's rules, while the Lasat made a sarcastic comment about punctuality and chaos. But I barely heard them.

The images continued to float in my mind like a puzzle impossible to piece together. There was something buried in that hazy memory, something my mind seemed determined not to fully uncover.

Family, I thought, with a mix of bitterness and confusion. It was a strange, foreign concept, but now it seemed tied to those flashes, those voices, and those shadows.

I clenched my hands, trying to control the tremor that threatened to betray me. Whatever it was I had just experienced, I couldn't allow the others to notice.

As Hera's words continued to fill the room, I felt an uncomfortable spark within me—a crack in the cold armor I had built through years of training.

'What in the galaxy was all of this?'

Time passed quickly. In just a week, my body had fully healed. I removed the bandages and immediately noticed the surprised looks from the others, including Kanan. My excuse was simple: I used the Force to accelerate my recovery. His reaction made it clear that he considered this an advanced skill, but it was a trick I had learned from a young age—more out of necessity than as a gift. I kept my explanation brief and convincing, avoiding unnecessary details. Luckily for me, they accepted the lie without further questions.