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Skywalker: Resurgent Ch.15: "I'll Make a Man Out of You!"

Topic: Training - Teaching Materials - Notes - Document 9:

There is so much shit in this galaxy that would kill a prospective Force user, it would take it's own separate file to cover even the basics.

(Note: I already started a list. File listed under 'Potential Threats' for a mildly distressing read. List is ongoing, unfortunately.)

Long and short of it is that I need to be prepared. Kenobi's training has been incredibly useful and he has even told me that I have shown remarkable progress. I have been careful not to let this give me any sort of ego however, since I know I'm still far short of where I will need to be to confront Vader or Sideous.

Unfortunately, Kenobi may not always be available to me. He is simply too important to always have at my side and isn't exactly as youthful as he once was. I cannot be dependent upon him forever and need to think of how I'll grow on my own.

Experience is the best teacher, I believe. Probably one of the biggest benefits of aiding the Alliance is not just that it will fall in line with my own goals of tearing down the Empire and bringing me into contact with key figures and events, but that it will also grant me opportunities to grow in knowledge and experience.

Holocrons are a priority. Some of them are said to be so powerful, they can impart training by simple exposure, as if by some supernatural effect. Whether this is some kind of Force Magic (workshop that term), or some kind of memory transfer is still up for speculation. Will require multiple holocrons to properly study this effect.

Unfortunately, holocrons are in short supply. The Empire has either confiscated or destroyed most of them and I doubt I'll find the surviving ones' locations any time soon. As of writing this, I've had little success in following up on my other leads.

Tried looking into the Baran Do (Baron Doe?). They faded into obscurity by the time Kenobi had ever heard of them as a young man, so any trail I try to follow would likely be long cold. Spending days or weeks wandering around Dorin would do me little good if they didn't want to be found. Humans stand out there and I'm not sure I want to risk that kind of attention. The Bilbringi shipyards are one good jump away, meaning that whole area of space will be heavily patrolled and fortified.

I've also had no luck looking into Dathomir. It's a quarantined world, so I can't even confirm whether or not the Nightsisters or the Clans exist there. If the wreck of the Chu-something ever crashed there, then that means the training materials aboard would've been looted years ago by the Singing Mountain Clan and anyone else who came along after. Negotiating for them will be difficult since they don't take men seriously there, never mind avoiding the Empire, the witches, and the local rancor population. For now, it's out of my reach.

(Note: See separate files 'Wayland' and 'Byss' for current notes on search for these known storehouses of artifacts and records. As of writing this document, no such planets can be found on any star chart I can access and all I have is guesswork.)

(Note 2: Fuck Imperial censorship.)

I know that there are others scattered throughout the galaxy but 'needle in a haystack' doesn't even begin to cover how difficult such a search would be.

Gonna have to go off of memory and Kenobi's lessons until something breaks my way. Lesson Plan entry to follow.

Update: Nar Shaddaa. There might be a hutt I'll have to steal from. See file for: Grakkus Jahibakti Tingi

Hells, that's a mouthful.

Note: Check the spelling

Note 2: Ask Han how to pronounce that. He speaks Huttese better than I do.

Note 3: Learn to speak Huttese better

― Excerpt from the personal datapad of Luke Skywalker (Private - written in non-Arubesh alphabet)

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

The Resurgent; Communications Room

"Tell me what happened."

He was totally calm. I'd expected some sort of reprimand or a disappointed look but his calm acceptance was throwing me off a bit.

I stood alone in one of the briefing rooms to use the holocomm and make contact with Kenobi. While it had been awhile since we'd been able to see each other in person, I was glad to make contact with him when I could. Not just to see that he was okay but to converse with him and perhaps get some guidance I may not even know I needed. He was such a font of Jedi wisdom, I'd be foolish to discount his opinion out of hand though I might sometimes disagree with it.

Today, I was feeling nervous and I didn't like it. I had discussed freeing Vima and the Durrons from Kessel long ago and had even labeled it as a milestone to building a better future. With the elder Durrons dead, I had seemingly done something contrary to all of the careful plans we had discussed in that old hovel in the Tatooine desert.

As firm as I was in my opinion that I was doing the right thing, I was now standing here talking to the one person who knew I was going back on my word.

The call began cordially, all polite and friendly. It was just two friends catching up on recent events. Then I told him the outcome of my mission to Kessel and he got quiet for a few seconds before speaking again.

After recounting events, I began to explain my rationale.

"Between having the choice of doing something and doing nothing, I chose to do something," I defended. "I understand that you might not agree but I stand firm on-"

"Luke, Luke!" he interrupted me. "Why are you being so defensive?"

"Oh, I uh," I quickly collected my thoughts. "I thought you'd be gearing up for a lecture, or a reprimand, or something. You're not mad that I've taken on a student of my own?"

"It's hardly ideal," he agreed. "But I certainly understand your reasoning for doing so. I'd even considered the possibility that you'd change your mind. The boy is alone now and I can certainly think of worse role models.

I was flattered by the sincerity in his words. Still...

"I wish I could've discussed this with you beforehand," I told him. "But you were out of reach and it all seemed rather 'spur of the moment.'"

"Understandable, if regrettable," Kenobi remarked. "Nevertheless, you made a decision and I have confidence in your ability to pull through with it."

"Yeah, 'pull through,'" I echoed, my mouth thinning to a line as I pondered what the sentiment 'well enough' would mean in regards to training a student, let alone in such a dangerous time and place as this.

Although I had chosen to keep Kyp around and teach him as best I could, it was also dawning on me how unprepared I was for this. I had just a few years of experience behind me. Kyp

Was I supposed to take him with me on missions? Should I leave him aboard while I went off to pursue missions and to make contact with potential allies? What if I ran into an enemy Force user; which could be anything from an inquisitor to Vader? Did I just hope that the Force would protect him from a terrible end?

There was a long moment of silence on the call as my last words hung there between us. Eventually, Kenobi was the one to speak again.

"Did I ever tell you about when I argued to take An-your father as my padawan?" he asked.

I was actually pretty familiar with the story. But as I was curious where he was going with this, I shook my head.

"My own master, Qui-Gon, was the one who insisted on it," he began. "When he passed suddenly, the task was left to me. I could've passed it to another. I knew the Council would likely assign him to another if I insisted, but I had a good long look at myself before I spoke to the Council and Master Yoda himself."

Kenobi's expression shifted to something I'd almost call nostalgia.

"I thought back to my own youth," he began. "Did I ever tell you about how I met Qui-Gon?"

"I don't think so," I said, though I was passingly familiar with the story.

"I was nearly aged out as a youngling," he told me. "I remember how desperate I was to be taken by a Master. I thought I had failed and was destined to be sent to the Agricorps. Due to some... extraordinary circumstances, I got a second chance and Qui-Gon took me under his tutelage. It was the best thing that had ever happened to me."

There was quite a bit of story he was skipping over but I didn't want to interrupt.

"And so I found myself thinking then what I'm thinking now," he continued. "That what matters is that you give him a chance. Yours would not be the first unusual partnership I'd ever seen, not by a long shot. Sometimes, we find ourselves in unusual circumstances but I believe these can more often be made into opportunities. You're a smart young man, Luke. It's earlier than either of us would've liked but I think something truly good can come from this."

I was warmed by his acceptance and also his assurance that I was doing the right thing. Despite all of my foreknowledge on him and this universe, I found myself attentive and amazed by the personal accounts of his adventures and the lessons he would impart. He had a great talent for storytelling; his sarcasm and dry wit came out in abundance in those stories, which always made them better.

It left me with an even deeper respect for the man's opinions when I was seeking his counsel.

"Thank you," I told him honestly. "I appreciate you saying that."

"And you are welcome," he returned. "I don't believe that it was mere happenstance that young Kyp has come into your care. His presence may serve a greater purpose than either of us may believe."

I wasn't completely dismissive of the idea, but the vagueness of it was so typical of a Jedi that I couldn't really let it pass without remark.

"You know I'm not as big on the mysticism routine as you are," I told him with a smile. "It's fun sometimes but gets annoying after awhile."

"So you've said," he smiled back. "But I think you'll learn to appreciate the act now that you have a Padawan of your own."

"About that..." I replied slowly. "I do have a question I'd like to ask you about managing a Padawan."

"Ask away," he encouraged.

"Do you have any advice for how to keep him on task, just not with me?" I asked. "No, sorry, that was awkwardly put. Rather, do you have any tips for keeping him occupied and out of trouble when he's not with me?"

It was something that I was still struggling with several days after taking Kyp under my wing. I still strongly opposed the idea of sending children into combat, Force user or not. Yet, the whole idea of taking on an apprentice was that they'd spend as much time as was practical in the presence of the master to learn from them and how they did things. Indeed, my promise and responsibility to Kyp was not that I'd just teach him how to be a Jedi, but how to live his life. He was orphaned at such a young age that he had years to go before he was a fully developed individual. In fact, he might be considered to be in the height of his formative years right now. What kind of person would I be making him into if I insisted on bringing him into combat and had him fighting and killing alongside me?

It would not be the kind of person I'd like to hold up for future students to look to as an example. Not if I wanted the next generation to be better than the ones who came before them.

"Hmm," Kenobi mused, stroking his beard in thought. "It is something of a predicament for you, isn't it? Traditionally, a full Padawan would be expected to either accompany their master on assignments or to stay at the temple and continue their studies should the mission prove to be too dangerous for them. I take it you don't want him flying as your wingman just yet?"

"Hells no," I told him. "The kid hasn't even had his first flying lesson yet. There's no way I'm sending him into combat anytime soon if I can help it."

"Indeed," he acknowledged. "And there's a limited supply of Jedi related teaching materials these days, so self instruction might prove moot."

"I'm still working on that," I told him. "Taking on Kyp has moved those plans up by a good few years but I'm following up on leads where I might pick up any remaining holocrons or materials. My options still seem rather limited unless I get struck by sudden inspiration but the lead I told you about on Nar Shaddaa might be my best bet."

"Ah," Kenobi winced. "The Hutt. I will encourage you to exercise extreme caution before going there yourself or accepting any offers from such a wretched being. You've already antagonized the Cartels enough to have me concerned and a response from them should be considered inevitable."

"Of course, I'll take all appropriate precautions" I agreed. "And speaking of wretched beings; how goes your own work in tracking down leads?"

"'Wretched' may be an apt choice of words," he grimaced. "It seems I will be forced to consult some sources I'd rather leave alone. There is simply too little information regarding the whereabouts of Jedi and other person's of interest. The Alliance has made a great effort to follow up on such leads but nearly all of them have proven to be dead ends or even traps laid by the Empire."

I allowed myself to sigh aloud in resignation at this information.

"It's not like we expected this to be easy," I told him. "The Empire has a two decade lead on us. Still, we could really use a win of some kind on this particular issue sometime soon. I can't help but feel as though we're perpetually playing catch up with Sidious and his agents in this area. It's... frustrating."

"All is not lost yet," Kenobi reminded me. "Every day a Jedi lives is a victory over the Sith. And now, we have a new member to celebrate joining our ranks."

My teacher's words brought a wry smile out of me.

"The first of the next generation of Jedi," I remarked. "He probably hasn't stopped to consider it, but he'll be one of the leading members of the new order once it gets itself established. Experience alone will put him ahead of many of his peers."

"He'll be the second of the new generation," he corrected me. "Don't forget to count yourself among their number."

I shook my head in slight wonder.

"That's still weird to consider," I told him. "The first generation of students will naturally be older by average than the ones who came before in your time, but there may yet come a day where I'll be the most senior member of the organization. I'm barely past legal adulthood and I'm already beginning to train the ones who might someday succeed me."

"Such is the burden of masters," he shrugged. "I look forward to meeting him in person one day soon."

"You'll like him, I think," I smirked. "He's headstrong and determined. You like to pick up students with those traits, right?"

"Yes, such is my own burden," he sighed heavily, though I saw the corners of his mouth twitch in amusement. "As if two Skywalkers weren't enough, now I'm told there's another powerful, willful, headstrong young man out there learning the ways of the Force."

Smirking openly, his hologram peered at me and I didn't need any special insight to sense the man's amusement.

"Have fun with your new Padawan," he wished me cheerily. "Younglings make for... memorable students."

"He's smart, determined, and eager to learn," I described him honestly. "I expect him to take well to whatever I teach him."

I realized too late that I'd probably just set myself up, based upon Kenobi's laughter and the casual certainty I'd just uttered that statement with.

The Force can have a cruel sense of irony.

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

Exactly One Hour Later...

"This is such banthashit!"

"Watch the language, and no, it's education."

Kyp groaned and slumped onto the desk in my quarters we were using for today's lessons. This was the third such outburst he had made and it was honestly beginning to grate on my nerves.

I'd promised to train Kyp and to look out for him. He seemed to think that meant putting a blaster in one hand, a lightsaber in the other, and we'd then go off to kill stormtroopers. Instead, he was sitting safely at a desk and going over basic physics textbooks I'd (legally!) downloaded from the holonet. Mostly tutoring programs attached to texts about the basics of life in the galaxy and the basics of what someone was expected to know.

I wasn't planning on turning Kyp into a child soldier or risk damaging his development any more than his experiences on Kessel already had. I fully intended on Kyp becoming a well rounded and functioning member of galactic society one day.

For that to happen, he needed an education.

I was debating getting him some kind of protocol droid to act as a tutor but I was still sitting on that decision. I suppose it'd be another cliché case of history repeating itself - another Skywalker making a droid to help out - but that didn't mean the idea didn't have merit. But it would take a lot of time to build a droid from scratch. For now, the programs on his terminal would work fine.

I was actually rather pleased with myself in how quickly I'd gotten ahold of those programs and texts. There was enough material available on the holonet to account for a full education for a young being not able to attend a formal institution on a planet or station. Science, math, social studies, and a few other things all designed to create a well balanced and intelligent member of galactic society. I'd had to do a little digging to avoid the ones full of Imperial propaganda but it wasn't too hard.

Much sooner than I had expected, we reached the point where his frustrations boiled over and he started questioning my methods of instruction. This was the third outburst of frustration I had to answer to.

I guess it was on me for thinking a kid would have more patience for books when I had essentially promised to make him into a gun slinging, sword swinging, rebel badass.

"When are you going to teach me to fight?" he demanded. "I want to use a lightsword! Not read!"

"You'll get to use a lightsaber when you're good and ready," I replied evenly and firmly. "You need a firmer education and a grasp of the fundamentals before I let you anywhere near such a dangerous weapon. You want to accidentally cut your own arm off? Because that can happen."

Kyp grumbled something I pretended not to hear and picked up his datapad again. He let out a long, put-upon sigh and began reading again.

Truthfully, I was reaching something of an impasse and it was beginning to worry me. Originally, I hadn't intended on taking on any sort of student until I was much further along with my plans and my situation was far more secure. Hopefully, that would also mean the Emperor was dead and I had fewer enemies to worry about. Instead, here I was with an adolescent Force sensitive with anger issues, however justified they may be, and was trying to figure out where I was going to take his education.

I'd been firm with one thing above all else; Kyp needs to finish his standard education. Being a hyperspecialized Jedi warrior would hardly be helpful in the long run if he lacked an understanding of basic principals that everyone else in the galaxy had a firm grasp of. To that end, I'd procured a number of study materials and educational programs designed to get Kyp back on track with his education as well as supplement it with a few additions of my own preference.

Of course, my options were limited when it came to materials to assist in his education on Force matters. I had exactly one lightsaber in my possession and currently no means to make more. Kenobi had the small kyber forge to make a crystal in but, ideally, Kyp would find and select his own crystal from a more natural source in order to ensure better compatibility.

I could tweak my own blade and put it onto a training setting and let him practice with one or more of the small drones I kept around but that wouldn't cut it for long. I needed books, datapads, materials that Kyp could use and learn from on his own. I couldn't be constantly taking him everywhere with me and throwing responsibilities on him, at least not yet. It simply wasn't practical for either of us to do, no matter how 'traditional' it may have been. I had my duties and responsibilities to attend to and couldn't afford to neglect.

I was starting to better see why the 'old' Luke Skywalker had chosen to leave the military life behind when he began training students. There seemed to be barely enough hours in the day to get what I needed done. Perhaps once I had more faith in my young student's ability to survive, the situation would improve enough that I could worry less about him every time he left my direct line of sight.

And speaking of things that concerned me, the latest data packet had been delivered to the Resurgent and had included all the usual updates, briefings, and a scattering of mail. What wasn't there was what was bothering me. I still had too few leads on Jedi relics such as books, holocrons, or even old equipment I could scavenge.

I was putting out inquiries through Alliance Intelligence, with Leia's assurance that she would ensure that my request would be taken seriously. It probably helped that she was also eager for any and all materials relating to Jedi Counsulars and their lore and methods. I could only pass on so much, as could Kenobi, when all we had to go on at the moment were stories and our shared training and knowledge. It probably didn't help that neither Kenobi nor I were particularly suited to the Consular Path, with the former admitting that even the term itself had fallen out of common use before he ever came to the Temple.

It was just one of the many things I intended to bring back with time. The main paths of Guardian, Sentinel, and Consular all had their subcategories and merits - and had certainly not been abandoned in spirit - the more ambiguous roles of more modern Jedi within the old order were one thing I believed did more harm than good. While I supported the idea that the individual had to choose their own path, the lack of definition seemed far too ambiguous for a young learner to make an informed decision in how they wanted to push forward with their training. Having an ideal to aspire towards would be helpful to provide direction to new initiates.

Leia, for example, had become far more interested in the idea of learning about the ways of the Jedi once she had something to aspire to. Not everyone would latch onto the image of the 'classic' Jedi and their role but it was a reminder to me that if I wanted to create an order of something more than just warriors, I had to make the pitch that learning about the Force had different paths which could suit a variety of individuals and personalities. There is wisdom in allowing people to pursue their individual talents over restricting them to one path above all others.

That being said, Kyp was definitely showing signs of being more inclined to the more aggressive Guardian Path that Kenobi and I favored. Perhaps some of that was the rashness and eagerness of his youth showing through, but it seemed to fit more closely with his personality and habits. That is to say, he was more inclined to action over thought and tended to be more direct with his words, actions, and problem solving skills.

Perhaps one day this would change as he matured and possibly became a more level headed young man...

"Why would anyone ever add letters to math?!" Kyp exclaimed, jabbing a finger hard onto the screen he was using to learn from. "Math is math!"

But that day was not today.

"Let me have a look," I told him once again.

Kyp passed me the book and the next few minutes were comprised of me explaining the mathematical concept to him, mostly using analogies and a real world example to explain how it could be useful to know this stuff. He grudgingly nodded along and accepted the datapad - and my explanation - as he resumed his lessons.

I had never had a sibling before (Leia doesn't count), let alone a Padawan, so I was exploring new territory here. I also had barely any experience dealing with young children on Tatooine before I began my training. After my 'vision,' I simply didn't have the time or inclination to change that. Now, I was simply trying to do my best to help Kyp while reminding myself that he was a young boy and not a miniature adult. My role was to protect and guide him as well as I could, but I couldn't help but wonder if I was falling short at times. He still seemed so withdrawn from others and only really seemed to interact with me. Granted, I didn't usually mind having him close at hand, but he should be interacting with more people than just me. Stuck aboard a warship, he'd have to learn to talk to other people sooner or later, right?

'Just keep working at it,' I ordered myself. 'He'll come around but pushing him too hard won't help. Just be patient with him.'

"This is so dumb!"

Although I was really starting to wish he'd take a quieter interest in his studies. Maybe getting a protocol droid to be his tutor would be a worthwhile investment?

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

A Few Days Later,

the Wardroom (Officer's Mess)

I sat down with my plate, taking the measure of the room and the people in it as I made myself comfortable.

The ship's wardroom was something of an anachronism to me. The room was meant to serve as a separate eating area for the ship's senior officers and allow for them to eat and discuss sensitive matters away from the eyes and ears of the ship's regular crew. While I could understand this, I also thought it was strange that there was a separate dining area in the back which could be reserved by the ship's senior officers and whomever else. To me, it seemed like another barrier between officers and the people they were supposed to lead. But, I was getting a crash course in military culture and learning why these degrees of separation existed and why they mattered.

Captain Shin had actually been the one to inform me of this particular custom and to implement it, as it was apparently a tradition aboard warships dating back to a time long before even space travel. He had made courteous but firm arguments for why such traditions existed and why it was important that we agreed on following them. A small part of me had been a bit put out by the number of such 'insistences,' but reason eventually won out over emotion. Shin was a seasoned ship captain and I had to rely upon his opinions in such matters. If something he wanted implemented seemed strange to me, I decided to simply ask him to how and why instead of dismissing him out of hand or personal preference. If he felt strongly enough to argue for something, then chances were that he knew what he was talking about.

I had yet to be dissatisfied by any of his arguments.

Today, I was seated in the private section of the wardroom, which was reserved for the commanding officer and he senior staff. 'Private was probably an exaggeration, given how it was basically a single table separated from the others in the dining area, but I digress.

I was joining a bit late today, since I was still occupied with lesson plans with Kyp and trying to figure out how to help him fit in a bit more around here. I had tried inviting him to join me for breakfast but the young man had again declined my offer. It seemed like he was fine if we ate together but he didn't want to interact much with the other members of Rogue Cell.

And it seemed his absence was just conspicuous enough to be noticed.

I placed my tray down across from Biggs and Wedge, who were already mostly finished with their own meals and seemed to just be discussing something when I arrived.

Biggs looked up from the pile of flimsi printouts next to his cup of caf and raised an eyebrow at me.

"No tag along today either?" he asked. "I was hoping to finally get to know him better."

"He's eating in his cabin today," I replied, poking the egg on my tray.

"You didn't bring him with you?" Wedge asked.

"I invited him," I defended. "He said he didn't want to come along. I didn't want to push him into something if all I might end up doing is making him uncomfortable and resentful of me."

"If he's going to be sticking around, he'll have to interact with other people eventually," Biggs noted. "The ship's not that big."

"I am aware of that," I replied, stabbing a piece of egg on my plate with my fork. "I'm walking a thin line between pushing him into opening up to others and respecting his boundaries. It was never this hard to get us to open up to others when we were growing up."

"Well, Tatooine's got a big community culture on it," Biggs replied. "You can't survive alone. We all lean on our neighbors one way or another sooner or later. Once I got offworld, I found out real quick that sort of mentality doesn't apply for everyone. Plus, he's been through a lot. You'll have to account for him shutting himself off from others to help cope with that pain."

"And what does Doctor Biggs recommend I do to correct this before he becomes the ship's hermit?" I asked, only slightly sarcastic. Truthfully, I was appreciative of whatever advice I could get right now.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I'm paid to fly; not be a therapist."

"Well, that's no help," I groused, taking another bite of my meal.

"Maybe we should think about getting some kind of therapist aboard?" Wedge added.

"I'll add that to the wish list," I told him. "Right after spare parts for the gravity well generators and the dropships. As a side note, enjoy those eggs while we have them."

"Sheesh," he let out. "Sorry I suggested it."

I sighed.

"No, I'm sorry," I apologized. "I'm a bit... short tempered this morning. I've got a lot of things to handle and Kyp is making them all much harder. I'm happy to be able to help him but he's really drawing a lot of my focus from other things that demand my attention. I've got to find some way of getting him to be more self reliant aboard, if only to help him better adjust."

"It doesn't help that there's no one really in his age group for him to get along with," Wedge added. "That's what school is supposed to be for as much as tests and academic stuff. You end up opening up sooner or later if only because you keep running into the same other brats who are stuck there like you."

"Not... how I would phrase it," Biggs added. "But he does have a point. School is more about the academics; it's about the people you spend time with too."

I took a sip of water and paused for a moment before responding.

"I really hope that's not a suggestion that I pick up any more Force sensitive children and bring them aboard," I told them. "I don't think my blood pressure could take it, for one."

The thought of running a fulltime Jedi Academy in the midst of all the current madness of this war and everything else was enough to give me a panic attack if I kept my mind on it for too long.

"Stars, could you imagine a school on this ship?" Biggs chuckled. "Classes could literally be cancelled due to turbolaser fire. Substitute teachers every day due to changes in the duty roster."

"If my parents are to be believed, they endured worse on their way to school," Wedge chuckled.

"Yours too?" Biggs openly laughed this time. "Mine told me theirs was a long walk... through forty kilometers of desert."

"My Uncle Owen told me once he was shot at by Tuskans on his way to school," I joined in on the laugh. "He, apparently, had to fight them off with the other kids in order to survive the trip."

"Kiddie stuff, all of it," Wedge dismissed with a wave. "I grew up on Corellia. We had seasonal weather, pirates, smugglers, swoop gangs, and that was the easy stuff! I had to fly an unarmed and unshielded shuttle to get there. It's how most Corellians become great pilots, y'know? We learn to file flight plans in daycare!"

During Wedge's boasting and our resulting chuckles, Captain Shin arrived with his own plate of food and a cup of morning caf.

"And what are we discussing today?" Shin asked, straightening his uniform shirt after sitting down.

"The walk our parents took to school," Wedge answered.

"Ah," he answered knowingly. "No space battles when I was growing up but my own commute consisted of scaling a mountain to get to school."

"Uphill both ways?" I chuckled.

"Of course," Shin replied with a wry smirk of his own. "Too many kilometers to count."

The banter continued between my friends and crewmates as I went back to mulling over my problem, if a bit less broodily than before.

What Wedge had said had rung true; there was no one else Kyp's age for him to get along with. Social interaction was as much a critical part of the school experience as the academics was. Learning how to interact with other people was critical for the development process of turning a child into an adult. I couldn't exactly grab a bunch of other kids just for him to interact with but maybe I could work something out.

Feeling the seeds of an idea beginning to take root, I smiled as I finished up my breakfast and bid everyone a good day. I began the walk back to my quarters, considering my newfound piece of inspiration.

My failing was trying to lure Kyp to interact with people when he was perfectly content to be by himself. Like Shin being drawn in to our conversation over breakfast, I had to create the right environment to draw Kyp out of his shell. Put him in a situation where he had to interact with others rather than shrinking into himself.

Now; who could I count on to help get my young ward out of his shell?

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

Later That Day...

"He's so cute~!"

I watched as Duella spun a baffled and embarrassed Kyp around in her arms as she lifted him off of the ground and swung him side to side.

"Hello, Duella," I greeted her as if she hadn't just glomped the poor boy. "Come say hello to our newest crewmember."

"Commander, he's so cute!" she exclaimed.

"You said that," I pointed out, still amused. I idly wondered if this was some sort of natural reaction that twi'leks had. Like when a human saw a puppy or something similar; the standard reaction was to admire how adorable the creature is and some folks were just unable to help themselves.

In this case, said 'creature' was blushing up a storm and trying to extricate himself from the enthusiastic twi'lek woman's arms while also appearing to avoid touching her. Needless to say, he was having limited success. I decided to take pity on my poor student.

"I think he needs breathing room, Duella," I remarked dryly.

Letting out a noise of disappointment, Duella loosened her grip on the young human and let him pull himself away from her. The poor boy was blushing so hard I was momentarily worried for his health, but only momentarily.

"As I was saying," I continued, keeping my bemused tone and expression. "Kyp here is our newest crewmate. Kyp; this is Duella. She's extremely qualified in shipboard operations and is highly valued around here."

Duella made a show of being flattered by my introduction but I meant every word. Duella hadn't just been a strong presence amongst the crew but was proving herself useful in a number of ways. In fact, I believed she was about to prove herself again right now.

"Duella, I need to conference with some of my pilots about potential targets in the near future," I explained. "Do you think you could do me a big favor and accompany Kyp for awhile? He'd just be bored tagging along with me and I think he could do with meeting some more of the crew."

What I was sure Kyp didn't know was what this was partially theater for his sake. I had sent Duella a private message to 'bump into us' so that I could ask her take Kyp off my hands for a little bit. The enthusiastic twi'lek had been more than happy to accommodate my request and had assured me that it wouldn't interfere with her own schedule for the day.

"I'm happy to oblige, Commander," she confirmed, throwing me a quick salute. "What's our mission objective?"

"Well," I mused, scratching my chin. "He could use a haircut. That mop on his head is gonna be more trouble than it's worth."

Much to my surprise, there actually was a 'barber shop' aboard the ship. I hadn't even known about it until my first month aboard when Shin had made an idle comment about stopping by himself. I had thought he was kidding until I realized he was serious and asked why the hell we had a barber shop. My professional ship captain had then proceeded to instruct his ignorant commander on the matter.

I had thought it was an addition left over from the ship's days as a pirate vessel, but Shin had been kind enough to inform me of the truth. Venators were designed to have a mostly or entirely human crew. And not just humans but young and fit human men who had grooming needs, clones or not. Since human hair didn't stop growing on a whim, it needed to be trimmed down for regulations and hygiene reasons. These ships would operate for months without the chance for shore leave, meaning the crew would have to make do with whatever was aboard. Hence; barber shops existed on warships.

I was still wondering if my (then) new captain was pulling my leg until he showed me the location in question, which was surprisingly mundane as far as I had expected it to look. There were a number of grooming tools on hand to accommodate for several species with similar needs but I was still impressed by the presence of it all. I suppose it just hadn't occurred to me until I'd seen it that a place like this had to exist.

It probably also explained some of the wilder looking clone haircuts I could recall. Tattooing one's own scalp is not something to do alone in a mirror.

"I said my hair is fine!" Kyp protested.

"Yes, you did," I replied. "But it's also growing out of it's own style. You need a trim. And honestly? Be glad I'm not some kind of traditionalist about this stuff. I'd be insisting on you having a braid and cutting pretty much everything else off-"

"No way!" Kyp protested.

"-So this is a good compromise," I finished. "You don't want to look like some kind of slob in front of the rest of the crew, right? It'd be hard for them to think of you as a badass rebel like them if you don't look the part."

"It is a bit messy," Duella mused, running a hand through the kid's tangled locks.

"See, Duella agrees," I pointed out. "She's a style expert. You should totally get it cu-cleaned up at the barber's."

Kyp grumbled something I chose to take as acceptance of my idea.

"Great!" Duella cheered. "And afterwards, you can help me test the emergency seals on some of the starboard gun batteries! It'll go much faster and you can meet the gunnery crews!"

My padawan's eyes widened at the sudden addition to his haircut plans.

"Wait, I-"

"Sounds like fun," I interrupted. "I'll meet you both later and you can tell me all about it."

Duella gave a great show of jabbering questions at my young apprentice while simultaneously hauling him down the ship's corridors. Despite the young man's earlier show of reluctance, I saw that he wasn't really trying to escape her anymore and was responding to her questions whenever Duella paused for breath.

"Thanks again, Duella," I quietly spoke aloud.

With my student taken care of for the near future, I turned back the way I came and walked towards my next appointment. It wasn't long before I reached my destination and entered one of the ship's briefing rooms.

"Commander on deck!"

The shout brought the room to attention as everyone rose to greet me. Assembled were the squadron leaders, several of the ship's senior officers, and a handful of other individuals with the necessary clearance to be in this room such as Makks, who had taken a seat at the front of the room.

I acknowledged the gesture and quickly signaled everyone to return to their seats. We had a long briefing to get through and everyone might as well make themselves comfortable.

"Right on time, boys and girls," I remarked cheerily, taking my place behind the podium and in front of the screen. "Now then, let's begin with the latest force assessment and threat analysis for the region..."

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

Later...

Kyp ran his hands through his hair for the dozenth time.

"You know you'll go bald if you keep doing that?" I smirked, repeating something Aunt Beru would tell me when I fussed over my hair too much.

"I still think they took too much off," he grumbled, finally dropping his hands into his lap.

We were seated in the compartment I typically used for my own practice sessions, sitting on the large mat I had pulled into the center of the room for comfort. Kyp's new haircut was hardly any different from his previous style, save for looking more deliberate than accidental. His once shaggy mullet had diminished significantly and had neatened out into something more 'punk' and less 'wild child,' so that was something.

"It's fine," I assured him. "Now, do you want to learn something or keep discussing your hair?"

That got his attention.

"I'm ready!" he spoke quickly, sitting up and looking intently at me.

"Good," I smiled. "Today, we're gonna jump ahead a little bit. I know you're not starting out from scratch, so I want to show you something I've been working on for awhile. Don't worry if you can't do it right away, because I'll teach you how to reach the point where you can do it yourself."

My words, while flattering, were also part of my lesson plan for today. I knew for a fact that a lot of the material I was going to have to teach him would be dry and boring, especially for a preteen. Having a lesson that could capture his interest would go a long way to both taking this part of his training seriously as well as ensuring he listened to me so as to achieve the same feats.

It didn't hurt that the particular skill I was going to demonstrate was not only useful, but part of a series of lessons he could progress through as he leaned and practiced more.

"We'll start by talking about how the Force interacts and causes certain effects in the world around us," I continued. "For instance; that trick Vima taught you to fortify your body and draw strength. How do you think that works?"

Kyp looked confused as he answered, which I had expected.

"I, uh," he began. "I draw strength from the Force? It gives my body energy and heals me?"

"Partially correct," I clarified. "You do draw strength from the Force and use it to subtly manipulate your body's natural healing process. What you do is encourage an accelerated process, which is where the feeling of strength comes from. Your body is producing all that energy, preparing you for new actions to spend it on like running, fighting, or minor healing in your case."

There was a long biology lesson I had sort of worked out a while back when I had started using the technique myself, but I didn't want to bore Kyp too much here. Today, it was all about learning to manipulate the Force and strengthen his ability to draw upon it.

"It's easy to look at the Force and write off what we see and do as magic or mysticism," I waved a hand negligently at the terms. "Although it's easy to fall into the habit given the nature of what we can do, we can't forget that there's a real and observable effect for us to study. By furthering our knowledge of what we are doing and gaining a firmer grasp of the effects, we can open ourselves to new abilities and paths of learning. Any braindead idiot can pull a trigger, but a marksman will know and understand both the process and his weapon to achieve the best results possible."

Kyp was nodding slowly with a thoughtful look on his face.

"Do you have any questions so far?" I prompted.

Kyp remained quiet for a moment before speaking.

"Is that why you're making me learn all that school stuff?" he asked. "Because science can help me understand how to use the Force better?"

"That's a part of it," I acknowledged, smiling at my student's insight. "Having a complete education can only help you in the long run and I don't want to deny you any opportunities. With proper context for how certain principals work, you'll find some things easier to do as you grow in understanding. For instance; do you know what molecules are?"

"Sure," he nodded. "It's basic stuff."

"And do you know what friction is? How heat is generated?"

"Sorta. It's... moving the molecules against each other faster. Like rubbing my hands together, right?"

"Exactly like that," I smiled again. This was going easier than I had worried it might.

"And heat at perhaps it's most basic description, is energy. An effect of basic forces that we can perceive and even recreate around us. That is the core of today's lesson. I want you to try and consider your powers and what you are doing. Visualize what you want to happen, know what it is you are trying to do and create an effect."

"An effect?" Kyp repeated curiously. "What kind of effect?"

"We call it 'the Force,'" I said, beginning a lecture I had originally conceived of years ago. "It has the benefit of keeping things simple while also hinting at the greater truths within it. It's not just a cool name. By tapping into it, we can channel that great reserve of energy through ourselves and alter the world around us. The Force is the power while we are the conduit for it to be channeled, or to manifest."

"Vima said that we were a part of the Force," Kyp frowned, apparently puzzled. "That everything is... somehow. Is that what she meant?"

"Kind of," I said, waving my hand in an iffy gesture as I attempted to explain. "Probably. Since the Force is what binds all living things, that meant everything is connected to the Force. We, as sentient beings, can perceive our place in it. Through our understanding and our will, we can manipulate it."

"Like..." Kyp trailed off. "Like when I heal myself?"

"That's only a part of it," I informed him. "It can be used for healing, sensing danger, pulling off incredible feats of physical prowess, any number of topics we can cover later. And perhaps the greatest truth is that anything is possible through the Force. In ancient times, the most skilled practitioners of the old orders achieved miraculous things by not just reaching for more power, but by understanding that the only limits were their imaginations and the level of power they were capable of putting through themselves at any one time. The physical body can only sustain so much before failing us, but even this obstacle can be reduced with proper training, timing, and patience.

"As the Force is a truly universal power, that means it is not bound by any one species or sect of people. Thousands of species have had millennia to devise different theories, names and techniques. Many of these ideas have become lost over the ages but the fact that they existed once means they may be recreated again. Because the Force is all of these things while also being none, and more. The knowledge may not be here but that doesn't mean we cannot reach for it on our own. Because we all draw from the same great power, no matter how we see it, there is no technique that is truly beyond our grasp if we are able and willing to work hard towards it.

"Do you understand what I am saying, my Padawan?"

""I..." Kyp's brow furrowed in thought. "I think so. The Force is... everything? And that means it belongs to everyone, right?"

"Precisely," I smiled. "And that as there is no real block against using the Force, barring the ones we place upon ourselves. Can you think of a reason why we might avoid certain techniques?"

Kyp was silent for a long moment before giving an answer.

"Because they're evil?" he phrased his answer like a question.

"Close," I informed him. "It's because the mentality to use certain techniques can have ugly consequences when we do choose to use them. Because when I said all life is touched by the Force, that includes you. Focusing dark, violent, and primal emotions can feel good or even fantastic but will also taint you with that darkness. It can corrupt your thinking, affect the choices you make, and even cause serious harm to your body. It's why it is important that we avoid such techniques and work on cleansing ourselves of these dark influences when we come into contact with them."

Now for the practical demonstration to drive the lesson home.

"Which brings us to the practical portion of this lesson; how to center oneself, learn the basics of more advanced techniques you'll be able to attempt later, and ward off the Dark Side at the same time."

I raised my hand up in front of us.

"An effective technique to accomplish these goals all at once... is through fire."

In the instant after I spoke, I focused intently upon the space above my palm, moving the air particles faster and faster, generating friction and heat until...

Pure light shone from the palm of my hand, like I'd flipped a switch to turn on a lamp.

"Woah!" Kyp exclaimed.

I chuckled at the amazement Kyp was showing for this technique. For someone who could heal and sustain himself with the Force, he was clearly impressed by a very simple technique I was fairly confident any Force user could pull off. Then again, I suppose this was a 'flashier' move than simply making yourself not be sore after a hard day of work.

And yes, that pun was intended.

"It's a small thing when compared to what fully fledged Jedi can accomplish," I explained to him. "But it's still useful in it's own ways. And not just in the most obvious ways, like finding your way through a dark room."

I moved my hand back and forth in front of us as I continued.

"Like many of the techniques we'll be practicing, intent and understanding will play a big role. This technique, at it's fullest potential, can be used to ward off darkness. I don't just mean the literal darkness when someone turns the lights off or wandering through a dark cave or something, but the inner darkness as well. The darkness within ourselves. This technique will be good practice for you. As you draw light into your hand, you'll learn to burn away the darkness within yourself that may affect your judgement. It is important that you learn to center yourself going forward in your lessons."

And that was the real reason I wanted him to start his lessons here, with this technique.

It was actually one of the first techniques I had managed to teach myself. Kenobi had been surprised when I'd demonstrated the technique and explained how I'd done it. It seemed like such a mundane use of the Force, he admitted that most Jedi wouldn't even think of it. I had told him that the ability to create light in the darkness would be a highly useful survival technique, as well as a path to other, more useful skills. Despite the plentiful resources of the modern age, one couldn't always depend on having a torch or modern light source nearby when needed.

I had explained to him that I had drawn inspiration from my visions of a possible future, where I had seen two young children (Jacen and Jaina actually, but I hadn't told him their names or relation to me to keep the conversation on track) use the Force to generate heat and light between their palms to warm themselves and ward off ambient Dark Side energies. Heat and light sounded pretty close to actual fire, so I figured I'd just try the technique and see what happened when I pushed it harder.

The 'warding off the Dark Side' part had drawn renewed interest and had sparked a discussion on how that could happen, which had distracted us for most of that day's lessons. Kenobi was intrigued by my own explanation of how it could have occurred:

A child's view of the dark.

The children's' captors were trying to wear away at the spirit of their captives. To do this, they bombarded the cells they were kept in with Dark Side influence and instilled feelings of despair, fear, and hopelessness so as to make them more pliable to molding as Sith students. It was crude, cruel, and more than a little self destructive but it still managed to produce some results.

It seemed almost ridiculous, but I was fairly certain that the Solo twins had managed to draw upon the Light Side to repel the darkness because they associated it with the feeling of being trapped in a dark place and having a warm light to huddle against. The heat and light of that simple trick had allowed them to associate warmth with safety and goodness, thus repelling the dark influence plied at them by their captors.

It fell right in line with my views on Force powers being driven as much by intent as anything else. It might also just serve as proof that technique was secondary to the emotion behind it. How else could someone so invested in the Light Side like Plo Koon use Force Lightning, albeit with an obvious change in the lightning's appearance? The man had proven that intent mattered more than technique, thus implying that there were no 'Dark' or 'Light' techniques, just people.

Of course, certain actions would likely require a certain frame of mind to achieve. True Sith Lightning apparently required a deeply rooted hatred and/or fear and I doubt many people who inflict deep and unnatural effects with the mysterious 'Sith Magic' have much positivity left in them. Whether that was just the exception that proved the rule or a whole other philosophical discussion, I'd settle some other time.

We launched into a discussion about connecting to the Force and achieving the right mind state when Kyp seemed to recall something I said and couldn't help but ask a question.

"Wait," he interrupted, now looing slightly confused. "Didn't you say 'fire' earlier? I get that it's a cool light, but I don't think it counts as fire."

"Oh?" I smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. "My mistake. Let me fix that."

I raised my hand, the light shining brighter as I did so. I focused on speeding up the reaction of the molecules, focusing more energy into my hand until...

Pure fire flickered into existence above my hand.

"Woah!" Kyp exclaimed, even louder this time, as he leaned in to marvel at the display.

"Yup," I acknowledged, smiling.

"That's so cool!"

"Yup."

"I can do that?!"

"Yup."

"Can you teach me?!"

"Yup."

"Can I learn it right now?!"

"We'll have to build up to it but I can get you started today."

"Let's get to it!"

Well, that had certainly gotten his attention.

Now, some people might think teaching my student to 'cast fireball' is an irresponsible first lesson. I would argue first that I wasn't teaching 'fireball' so much as I was instructing him on energy manipulation and focusing the Force through his body. I would also argue that the progress leading to 'fireball' was more useful and important since it focused on a more active form of meditation and taught a technique for helping to cleanse oneself of the Dark Side energies a young and impressionable man might encounter in daily living, never mind during a time of war and danger.

After all; in terms of destructive potential, was this really any worse than giving him a lightsaber to practice with? Even on training settings? Getting him used to keeping a calm and focused mindset would be a good start, even if his eventual goal was to throw fire from his hands. It would also useful for proving to him that lessons would be building up to more impressive techniques and that paying attention was important. I compared it to how a science teacher might blow something up to get the class' attention during a chemistry lesson to focus them on what is being taught.

And, maybe, I liked the look of admiration my student gave me.

As I ran Kyp through the beginning exercises and watched him stare at his hands, thinking hard, I had high confidence in this paying off. Still, ulterior motives aside, I found a pleasant feeling settling in my gut as I taught my young charge to create fire from thin air.

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

The Next Day...

"Atmospheric flight is different then flight in space," I spoke into my helmet comm. "There are factors like gravity and wind to consider. You have to not just consider what you are doing, but what the environment is doing around you too."

"If it's harder, then why are we starting here instead of in space?"

Kyp's tone was more curious than complaining, which was something I was grateful for. It showed that he was appreciative of this opportunity rather than complaining about not getting everything he wanted right away.

"Because it's how I learned," I explained. "Most people who grow up on planetary bodies are more accustomed to having those factors than not. It'll help you develop a better feel for the craft you're flying."

The blank screens around my cockpit suddenly shimmered to life as a generic landscape extended to the horizon. The control panels remained in the same basic layout but the displays turned on to depict the older two-seater Y-wing model that Kyp and I were using today.

Today, I had booked some time in the simulators to give Kyp an introduction to piloting. We weren't the only ones here today and I was taking the time to review some of the newer pilots and the sims that were running. After waiting for our spot to open, I noted through the Force that there were motes of curiosity as people seemed to be glancing at the screens to see what we were up to and what the commander's doing with that new kid.

"Flying a freighter or a pleasure craft is something anyone with the time, motor skills, and commitment can learn in their spare time," I told him. "Flying a starfighter takes intense concentration, training, and experience. It's gonna be up to you to provide the first, me to provide the second, and the third will come on its own in time."

The tech beside me helping me monitor and run the simulation program gave a thumbs up, signaling that we were ready to proceed.

"You ready, Pilot?" I asked him.

"Let's do this!"

I chuckled at his excitement and we began the training sim.

It wasn't anything too fancy; just a rundown of basic flight controls and conditions. Technically, the program was capable of providing all the instruction the user would need to become familiar with the basics of flight. I even used something similar when I began flying in sims. In practice however, there was no real substitute for someone who knew what they were talking about being there to walk you through things.

Just as I thought; the kid had a natural talent for this.

He picked up on the controls readily and got a quick grasp of the fundamentals in a hurry, leaving us plenty of time for him to begin experimenting with flying on (mostly) his own instruction. Starting small, he moved from making big, slow circles to dips and dives, to more acrobatic maneuvers as he tested the limits of his craft.

Eventually, I was limiting my commentary to part helpful advice and suggestions on things for him to try like, 'do a barrel roll!' and 'punch it!' which caused him to hit the accelerator and redline the digital craft's engines, leading to a quick lecture on why you never want to push your craft harder than it can handle unless in an emergency.

When it was time to call it quits for the day, there was only a token of complaint from my young student as he climbed out of his simulator and walked over to me. However, I noticed his head was turned to the side and looking up as he examined a certain display mounted to the wall. It showed a series of names attached to time trials and simulated combat runs.

Prominently marked in big blocky lettering at the top of the display were the names of the top scoring pilot this month. At the top of the list was a special title awarded to this pilot; Top Gun.

It wasn't exactly an original idea as I was sure someone had done something similar long before me, somewhere. Nevertheless, it had been positively received by the pilots and even the other members of the ship's crew. I'd even heard personnel discussing it casually about who'd take the top spot each month. It was something for folks to talk about and provided a friendly yet competitive element to sim training.

Thinking about the top spot, I turned my head slightly to glance at the display mounted to one wall of the flight sim room. When I'd been helping organize training sessions awhile back, I'd ended up approving small tournaments between pilots to compare their abilities and scores on various simulated trials. Noticing the top spot just said 'first place' at the time, I quickly edited it to something else with a little more flair and that I found amusing.

Now, everyone wanted to compete each month for the 'Top Gun' title.

Kyp climbing out of his training pod brought me back to the present as I turned to see how he was doing.

"Feeling alright?" I asked, looking for signs of dizziness some people got their first time flying.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Did I do good?"

"You did pretty well for a beginner," I praised. "Definitely better than a lot of first timers. Feel any nausea? Dizziness? How's your ability to walk right now?"

"I'm fine," he told me. "Should I feel sick or something?"

"While it was just a simulator, it's not too far off from a real flight," I began explaining. "Beginners can experience an upset balance or a sense of disorientation. Motion sickness, basically."

"But we weren't really moving?" he stated confusedly, making it sound more like a question.

"It's still a common enough occurrence," I assured him. "Your brain sometimes can't tell the difference when a simulation is telling it something is happening. We train enough beginner pilots in here that we have medicine for it on hand."

"Well, I'm fine," he stated again. "When do I get a nickname?"

The sudden question caught me off guard.

"A nickname?" I repeated.

"Yeah, like in the holovids," Kyp nodded like what he was saying was obvious. "Pilots get nicknames when they're flying. Don't I get one?"

Realizing what he was getting at, I chuckled at the boy's enthusiasm.

"Friends and family give each other nicknames," I explained to him. "Pilots give each other callsigns to refer to each other while flying. When you fly, you'll give your designation in official transmissions so everyone knows who's talking to who. Other than that, you'll have to earn a callsign."

"Well, how do I do that?" he asked.

"It'll come to you in time," I ruffled the boy's hair, getting my arm shoved to the side in retaliation which only caused me to chuckle again. "Other pilots you fly with will make one up for you. If you're lucky, it'll even sound cool or catchy. You don't want to be the guy who gets something lame because he tried to earn a cool callsign and screwed it up."

"What's your callsign?" he asked me.

"I'm lucky in that regard," I told my apprentice. "I'm the squadron commander, so I'm Rogue One or Rogue Leader. And even outside of a cockpit, 'Skywalker' is probably as cool of a pilot name as anyone could ask for."

Kyp grumbled a bit but didn't raise any objections to my words.

"Where's your name on the scoreboard?" he asked next. "I don't see it."

"I typically decline to participate," I explained. "I won the first month's competition but hold off on recording my scores these days."

"Why?" he asked, curiously.

"For one; I'm really good," I said with a smirk and a wink. "It's a bit unfair to everyone else if I'm always taking the top spot."

I chuckled a bit as the boy gave me a flat look for my response.

"But I'm also very busy," I continued after a pause. "I am a pilot, but I'm also a commanding officer and a Jedi before that. I have other things to focus my attention on. I might stop by now and again to keep my skills sharp and to keep the other pilots on their toes, but my focus has to be on the bigger picture."

We spent a few minutes talking at the desk about different types of craft we had aboard and how they handled when flown, when a crewmember approached us to deliver a message.

"Commander," he nodded respectfully. "I was asked to inform you that the Alliance Intelligence Agent will be arriving slightly ahead of schedule. We expect them to arrive tomorrow afternoon with the information packet you've requested."

I grinned at the news and what it meant.

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

The Next Day, Resurgent Flight Deck...

The next day, I strolled onto the flight deck towards the shuttle that had just landed. A wary but intrigued Kyp followed a step behind me.

The shuttle was an older SoroSuub design, with stubby wings and an overall rounded and blunt appearance to it. Without knowing what it was being used for, I'd have had trouble placing anything suspicious about it or be able to pick it out from other regular spacer traffic, which I suppose was the point.

A single figure descended from the open door at the side of the ship. She - as the figure was unmistakably feminine - wore a black bodysuit overlaid by a dark blue robe which ended at about mid-thigh and with an elaborate trim in the hemming and sleeves. A black cloth belt kept the robe fastened tight to her slim figure. She didn't appear armed but given her profession, I wasn't going to make any assumptions about that.

As she finished her decent from the ship, I formally introduced myself.

"Welcome aboard the Resurgent," I greeted. "I'm Commander Skywalker and this is Kyp Durron."

I had debated over how to introduce Kyp to others not a part of my command. Aboard my ship, he was simply known as 'that kid the Commander picked up' or 'the Commander's student.' To strangers, introducing him as my student might be an option but the title 'Padawan' had a certain implication and weight behind it. It was a title that immediately painted a certain expectation on him as my student and also put a target on his back.

I'd rather hold back any such assumptions for as long as possible, but I wasn't willing to lie forever about who and what he was. Playing it discreet might not work for long, or at all in the case of those who knew I was a Jedi and could pick up on the clues for themselves, but it would forestall Kyp being thrust into the spotlight and under the attention of those who might either wish him harm or to make use of him for their own goals.

For now, the figure tilted her head at me in a somewhat curious manner as she seemed to examine us both but mostly me.

"I thank you both for the warm welcome."

Her tone was cool and professional.

The woman in front of me looked to be approximately twenty with pale, clear skin and only a little shorter than me. Her most outstanding feature was her white hair, which was shockingly white and tied into a simple ponytail. If I didn't already know who she was, I would be wondering if it were dyed rather than natural.

"So what should I call you?" I asked her.

"Winter will do fine, I think," she said. Her expression was best described as stoic as she had maintained a polite, yet aloof, demeanor about her as she had approached me and handed over the datapad containing her credentials and purpose for being here.

To the best of my ability to decipher, they were legitimate. However, I certainly recognized the name she had just used as well as the features that accompanied it, making any further suspicion on my part seem unnecessary. What did surprise me was what I found tacked onto the end of the message I was reading.

"'Reassigned by Alliance Intelligence for liaison purposes and to supplement our logistical needs,'" I recited from the datapad in my hand. My tone was confused and just a little surprised at this sudden change. "I thought you were just here to hand over a packet and give a briefing?"

"A capital ship's day-to-day activities are a strain on an unprepared logistical train," Winter commented. "Even more so for a ship expecting regular combat such as yours, commander. Not to mention your own... peculiar circumstances and intelligence requests, commander. It has been deemed necessary for this situation to be addressed, thus leading to my assignment to your ship."

This was certainly more than I thought it was going to be.

"Why don't we finish this conversation somewhere private?" I suggested.

"Please," Winter gestured towards me. "Lead the way."

The three of us, including Kyp, departed the hangar deck and walked through the ship towards an unused conference room. Given that our walk took several minutes, I decided to play the gracious host turned boss and point out a few things along our way, giving a sort of impromptu tour.

Winter made no conversation and seemed content to let me speak, making a few noises and acknowledgements to show that she was paying some level of attention to what I was saying. Kyp was content to stay quiet as well, though he did show signs of being bored.

Soon enough, we arrived at my preferred meeting room. Winter did not bat an eyelash at the upscale, yet tasteful décor compared to how the rest of the ship looked. I gestured her to a corner seat across from me as Kyp took one to my other side.

"You've done a remarkable job here, Commander," she commented, seating herself in a chair. I noted that she did not unload the satchel bag she had brought with her, but let it rest against her lap as she sat down. "The Resurgent is a fine ship and appears professionally run. A credit the Alliance can be proud to have in their corner."

"Thank you," I replied. "Though if you'll forgive me for pushing past pleasantries, I am surprised that someone of your skill would be sent here, credit or not. I'm certainly glad to have you and your talents at hand, but I would have expected just about anyone else or a small team of personnel to accomplish what you are here to do. I'd think you would be far more useful elsewhere."

The woman before me smiled and put on a show of being flattered by my words.

"You're too kind," she replied demurely. "But my specialty is information. Whether that information is used for supply procurement, actionable intelligence, or something else, is largely irrelevant. My talents will prove sufficient for fortifying your supply lines and funneling information to your operations, so you need not worry."

I leaned back in my chair as I thought about how to answer that.

'She's underselling her abilities,' I thought wryly. 'Is that just the way she is, or does she have some alternative motive here?'

Winter - yes, that is her real name - is more than your regular aloof, ice cold intelligence agent. She possesses the rare 'gift' of having both holographic and audiographic memory. That means she has perfect recall of everything she experiences and whatever information she is given. For better or worse, she remembers everything. Even in a galaxy of trillions of humans and aliens providing a vast genetic diversity, this trait is exceptionally rare.

Her past is rather vague, however it is certain that she was raised alongside Leia in the Royal House of Alderaan. Both of her parents likely died in the Clone Wars or soon after, leaving Winter to be taken into the royal family where she became Leia's friend and royal companion. Growing up, she was said to have such a stoic and regal attitude, people often thought she was the princess instead of Leia.

She had worked with the rebellion since it's early days, serving as the eyes and ears for Bail Organa when he was otherwise occupied. Leia had even mentioned to me that while she had worked to look after Winter upon assuming a leadership role in the Alliance, Winter insisted on continuing her work for Alliance Intelligence and operating alone. In the original timeline, she served in dozens of important roles vital to the Alliance's success and was even trusted by Leia to look after and protect her children.

So yeah, she was kind of a big deal.

"Would it surprise you to learn that I already have a good idea of who and what you are capable of, Miss Winter?" I eventually asked.

"Perhaps a bit," she admitted. "But I've already been warned by a mutual acquaintance that you are unusually well informed, 'Mr. Eastwood.'"

'She came prepared.'

"Ah, and how is Leia?" I asked, not backing down from this sudden verbal spar.

"Doing well," Winter told me, not missing a beat. "She wishes to pass on her further congratulations for your recent successes and says she will likely be in touch soon to check on you herself."

"That would be nice. I hope she'll have time to stick around for awhile. I look forward to seeing if she's been keeping up with her meditation practice."

"I believe she has. She shared some details about what you hope to teach her and I must say, it all sounded very impressive. Useful skills for a mediator and a diplomat."

"Among other things," I shrugged.

"I suppose it's those 'other things' that concern me," Winter arched a single eyebrow.

A long pause settled into the conversation as we just looked at each other. My own estimation of Winter was rising as I dealt with her firsthand rather than just reading about her exploits. I was becoming reluctantly impressed with her after experiencing her quick wit and cool demeanor.

In turn, I sensed that she was analyzing me from across the table. Whatever she may be thinking specifically would remain a mystery, but I could sense curiosity and... contentment?... from her. It seemed that whatever she was looking for during our exchange, I had not managed to disappoint her just yet.

"But that's enough gossip for now," she eventually spoke. "I believe it is time to settle official business."

She finally lifted the satchel strap over her head and set it onto the table. Spinning it deftly, she undid the simple lock on the bag's exterior and began removing the contents and laying them out on the table before us. Said contents consisted of a bulky datapad and several sheets of flimsi. She placed the flimsi on the table first and then the datapad next to them.

"Commander Skywalker," she spoke formally. "I'll require you to read and sign the accompanying documents to confirm that you've taken receipt of the information packet."

"Understood," I replied, taking the sheets and examining them while preparing to sign them. Even in this highly technological society, there was still no end to the curse of paperwork. Some things still required hard copy over digital, even if the physical documents would likely be authenticated and digitized later.

Even in a ragtag rebellion, there was still bureaucracy.

A long few moments passed in silence as I gave the forms a cursory once over before picking up a stylus and preparing to sign.

"I was wondering if you might indulge me, commander?" came Winter's sudden interjection.

"Depends on the indulgence, I suppose," I responded, not taking my eyes off the form I was examining. "Let's hear it."

"While you are not currently under obligation to answer me, I am compelled to ask you what exactly you intend to do with this information," she stated.

"Oh? Worried about my safety?" I asked.

"I'm more concerned about what repercussions your actions will have," Winter informed me. "The Alliance is not at war with the Hutt Cartels. Your actions have already enraged them by taking this ship. Our reports indicate that not only does Jabba now know it was an Alliance operation that took his ship - this ship - but he has your name to focus his anger upon."

I kept the concern I felt at this news from showing on my face but only by acknowledging and accepting the inevitability of it.

"Only a matter of time until that happened," I shrugged. "It's not like I kept a low profile since the Death Star. I assume that means a bounty has officially been posted?"

"No, he hasn't posted one," she informed me. "Which is all the more worrisome."

"Why's that?" I asked curiously, glancing at her.

"Because it indicates that he's consulting his and the Cartel's own agents to handle the matter," she pressed. "I hope you understand the seriousness of that possibility."

I do.

Posting an open bounty brings in the Bounty Hunter's Guild. That also brings in varying levels of professionalism and typically a 'dead or alive' option. The Hutts are frequent customers of the Guild and even provide administrative oversight at times, meaning that acquiring the best contract terms and agents was a trivial matter for them. Bypassing the Guild altogether implied that more direct means were being employed. Elite bounty hunters, teams of specially trained and equipped assassins, starships with illegal and advanced weaponry; all of these things were at the Cartels' disposal should they wish it.

And for something this personal, hitting a major operation and stealing a major asset like the Resurgent? Jabba would be screaming for my blood. If he ever got his hands on me, an example would have to be made for the sake of his reputation.

For all my calm and the laidback attitude I put forward, I couldn't stop the chill that ran down my spine at this very real threat. I'd seen and heard stories of what the Huts do to people who piss them off. It was enough to make one lose sleep at night.

Still, I believed in my own ability to mitigate and handle these issues as needed.

"I'm well aware of the risks involved," I assured her. "And I'm aware of the extent of cruelty Jabba the Hutt in particular is capable of. I grew up on Tatooine after all. Examples of Hutt cruelty are just another fact of life there."

"And you are committed to this course?" she asked, looking very deliberately at Kyp for a long moment. "Despite the dangers this might bring upon us all?"

"I do not intend to get into any sort of direct conflict with the Cartels," I finally clarified to her. "But I will not allow them or their agents to go unchallenged if they are determined to oppose me or the Alliance. I make no apologies for my actions and I will accept and deal with any consequences going forward."

"Do you mean that?" she asked me, now looking intent. "Even if it means handling this yourself, without Alliance support?"

"Yes," I answered promptly. "But I think I have a plan in mind that might just meet with your approval. One that doesn't necessitate conflict and that I can also use to reassure the Alliance brass that I'm not some warmonger or out here on a crusade against the Hutts."

I patted the pile of information I had just signed for with one hand, meaningfully.

"That may go a long way towards reassuring certain individuals," Winter remarked, looking a bit intrigued. "Could you perhaps share this plan with me?"

I'll say this for her; she kept a calm and indifferent expression as I laid it all out. The woman may come off as a real ice queen, but even she couldn't fully hide her interest as I got to the good part and explained what I needed her delivery of data for. When she began offering suggestions and refinements of her own, I knew I had her support.

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

POV Shift: Ben Kenobi

Black Spire Outpost, Batuu

The Black Spire Outpost might have been another wretched hive of scum and villainy, but it still had its charms.

The outpost drew it's name for the unique black bark of the local trees. The trees themselves grew to an impressive height of several meters on average, casting equally dark shadows under the bright sun and normally pleasant sky.

Ben (because it was easier to think of himself that way) Kenobi kept his hood up as he walked off of the landing pad and journeyed further into the outpost. He was fully prepared to hide or possibly defend himself with the Force if necessary, but one human with a hood over his head was hardly worth noting in this place amidst all the other colorful individuals on display.

In fact, a great many species were represented around him but there seemed to be more weequay than one might expect. That is, if they didn't know the owner and operator of the outpost was also a weequay with a preference for hiring his own species.

Various businesses made their trade from improvised stands set up near the landing pads but also from several carved out holes under what one might consider the 'main street' in the outpost. Lighting fixtures hung from the random assortment of beams and cables strewn over the ceiling, partly obscuring the late afternoon sky.

Kenobi ignored the various signs and shopkeepers who still stayed open in the hopes of making one last deal before shutting down for the night. Instead he focused on his destination, marked by the largest of the black spires from which the outpost drew it's namesake. Beneath the spire was a large circular structure decorated with more banners and colorful strips than any of the surrounding structures, denoting it's status as the center of the outpost.

Unsurprisingly, it was a bar.

"Why must it always be a bar?" Kenobi muttered beneath his breath. "There's just no originality anymore."

Entering the establishment with little trouble, the smell of cheap liquor and sweat from various beings washed over him. Various beings talked, drank, and caroused around the old Jedi as he stepped deftly through the tangles of bodies. Rather than wasting time speaking with any of them, Kenobi knew the fastest option to getting what he wanted was to speak directly with one of the bartenders.

Arriving at the bar near the center of the establishment, a long and curved piece of familiar black stone serving at the bartop, he waited until one of the passing workers came to take his order before leaning in and speaking.

"Please inform your employer that his... old friend from Felucia is here to speak with him," Ben told him.

The weequay looked at him for a moment before giving a quiet scoff and walking off to somewhere deeper into the establishment, leaving Ben to sit alone on the rickety barstool he'd occupied.

'Not exactly promising,' he admitted to himself.

He cast a wary eye to the various beings around him, putting his long years of wandering through shady and dangerous establishments to good use.

Crowds had this familiar quality to them, no matter how many different and unique faces they were composed of. Even in the solitude of his home on Tatooine, Kenobi made regular visits to nearby towns. Of course, these were necessary trips for certain supplies and to keep up to date on any news as it trickled into the Outer Rim. While sitting in the back of a dusty room, he'd calmly sip a drink or eat a meal and just enjoy the sounds of boisterous laughter, people talking shop, or just meaningless chatter. It helped him make it through his long periods of having nothing but the sound of the wind and sand to keep him company out in that lonely desert.

'I didn't miss the company during my years in that hovel,' he thought to himself. 'But I do like being around people again.'

Luke certainly livened things up when he started coming around. When it wasn't a question about how to do something, or a wild tale about some crazy adventure that may or may not have ever happened (he still refused to believe that some of those weren't at least heavily exaggerated), it was an intellectual conversation the likes of which should have sent kids his age running for the door or falling asleep.

He'd felt himself... challenged. Like flexing a muscle he hadn't used in too long but was still strong. He liked to think he'd give as good as he got in those conversations and that it helped acclimate him for his return to the more crowded areas of society. The friendly banter they would exchange also had a way of keeping him on his toes. As a result, he found that interacting with people wasn't quite as difficult as he suspected it might be. Where he had once had somewhat stilted conversations with store clerks or bartenders, now he found himself speaking easily with influential leaders, military commanders, and diplomats as a part of the Alliance. It was as though those long conversations with Luke had been his own form of training. As if his pupil had been training Ben when Ben was training him.

Then again, it seemed like there was always something more going on with his young student than said student liked to let on.

It brought to mind something Qui-Gon had once said to him; 'By learning we will teach and by teaching we will learn.'

For some time, Ben had believed that his time was coming to an end. It now brought him contentment to think that there was still more for him to see and do in this life. He found himself contemplating what wonderful things he may yet get to see before his time really ended and he became one with the Force.

'I still have things left unfinished in this life,' he knew. 'No more sitting and waiting; it is not just my young student who has a great task set before him.'

His quiet contemplations stretched on for about another minute until the muscular weequay returned and tapped the bar top to get his attention.

"This way," the large being grunted. "Boss says you can come back."

Rising to his feet, Ben followed after the grunt as he went up the stairs located at the back end of the bar and proceeded up them. The journey was mercifully short on his old knees and he estimated they weren't too far above the main entrance. That was good news, because he had learned from long experience that it was always a good idea to remember where the exit was. This meeting could go any number of ways and it was best to be prepared.

The room he now found himself in was certainly more luxurious than the accommodations below but was, predictably, also a cantina. The patrons seemed more relaxed and well armed than those below and all of them eyed Ben warily as he was led towards the back of the room.

Beneath a large stylized painting of a world he was unfamiliar with, a figure was draped languidly over a large, throne-like chair. He wore a long, dark red coat with blue accents on the shoulders that had clearly seen many years of usage. He still wore the goggles and helmet, but the face was still recognizable beneath the extra weight he had gained and the mess of braids that fell from the back of the helmet.

And it seemed he recognized Ben too.

"KENOBI!"

Much of the activity stopped as conversation seemed to cease and everyone present turned to look at Ben. Only the sounds of music coming from the corner sound system and of a few of the arcade games kept the place from descending into total silence.

'So much for keeping a low profile,' he thought wryly.

None of this attention seemed to be noticed by the man who had cried out his name and risen to his feet, throwing his arms out as if to embrace Ben from across the room.

"Hello, Hondo," Ben greeted in a normal tone.

The older weequay spun in place and laughed in a jovial tone, sending his many braids dancing around his head.

"My good friend has returned from 'de dead to come and pay me a visit!" he declared to the room, his accent breaking through in his speech. "Sconze, turn up 'dat music and make it someting happy! Jeel, get some good stuff up from behind 'de counter, eh? And not 'dat stuff we overcharge 'de tourists for! Enough for everyone!"

A rousing cheer went up from the rowdy patrons as the orders were carried out. Hondo threw an arm around Kenobi's shoulders, leading him to a booth in a secluded corner. Ben wasn't thrilled by the close contact but didn't throw off the offending arm. He knew from old experience it was just Hondo's way.

The old gangster pushed Ben into his seat at the booth before plopping theatrically into the one across from him. A few seconds later, another weequay came over and placed two decorated cups in front of them (the more elaborate one went to Hondo) and poured them both a generous amount. Hondo shooed the underling away once both cups were filled and the bottle was placed on the table. He then wasted no time in raising his cup and toasting Kenobi.

"Old friends, together again!" he declared. "And I thought 'dat 'de Empire finished you off or drove you into hiding forever!"

"Closer to the latter, I'm afraid," Kenobi admitted, picking up his own cup. "But they certainly tried their best. I've only recently come out of seclusion."

"Then we drink to your return! To not letting the Empire finish us off!"

Hondo finished his statement by taking long, deep gulps of his drink. He sighed loudly, apparently satisfied, before pouring more into his cup.

"I heard you were alive some months ago," he remarked, gesturing with is free hand. "But I didn't really believe it. You get 'dat with famous folk like us, no? Someone always wants ta try and pretend to be one of 'de greats like us. Flattering sure, but a man can only see it so many times before it gets disrespectful. But 'den, I kept hearing your name and I 'tink, 'could it be true?'"

"Can't say I've heard very much about you," Kenobi admitted. "I was... indisposed for a number of years. It took me some time to begin looking up old contacts and you were one of the few still around. I'm glad to see you've managed to outlast the Empire as well."

And hadn't that been a depressing revelation? He'd recalled speaking briefly to Luke on the subject, about how thorough the Purge was and how the Empire even began targeting affiliated organizations and individuals who'd been known to help the Jedi. They'd been able to do this by raiding the data archives and mission reports at the Temple and tracking down anyone who stood out as an ally of the Jedi at one point or another. No one - not even the most modest captain who'd granted passage to a wandering Knight just once - was spared. It meant that many of his old contacts were either in hiding, dead, or wouldn't want anything to do with him anyway.

That had left him with precious few options with which to explore for his search.

Thus, Hondo Ohnaka was the only real option he had before he became desperate enough to chase rumors, myths, and vague directions Luke had been able to recall that may or may not even be true.

"By getting far away from 'de Core and Mid Rim worlds after 'de war," Hondo continued speaking. "Too much crazy for 'dis aging pirate. Even without 'de Jedi, 'de new Empire had a big military and little restraint in how 'dey used it. It was a not-so-good time for me, until I managed to regroup in 'de Outer Rim."

"You seemed to have done well enough for yourself," Ben noted. "From what I hear, you're not even a pirate anymore."

"Always at heart, old friend!" he stated dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "I am always one at heart! But 'de glory days when 'de Ohnaka Gang stormed forth like a mighty beast are long behind us all, I am afraid. Far better to sit and let 'de profit come to you once you reach old age; dat's what I always say!"

Kenobi knew that what Hondo wasn't saying was that he sat atop a prominent smuggling ring, as well as dealing in illicitly acquired ships and ship parts. The Black Spire Outpost wasn't quite the hive of scum and villainy one might find on a world like Tatooine, but it had a reputation that attracted its own kind of crowd. The Alliance had sourced a number of parts and supplies from him over the years, hence how they knew all of this firsthand and forewarned Kenobi before he came here.

"I can see the appeal," Ben acknowledged.

"But you?" Hondo tilted his head, looking intently at Ben now. "I thought you long dead by now. The Empire is not so forgiving of pirates but far less towards Jedi, eh? You must be up ta' something to have emerged after so many years? Perhaps... new friends?"

"That you are asking implies you already know the answer to that," Ben stated flatly.

"People still rely too much on 'de holonet for all 'dere news. Bah!" he waved a hand dismissively. "Talking to people, now dat's how you learn about de real interesting tings. Tings like who's fighting who, who's winning, and where all of de bodies will be buried."

"Sounds like you're rather knowledgeable what's going on these days," Kenobi ventured. "Perhaps you would not mind sharing with an old friend?"

"Oh?" Hondo's jovial tone was the same but his eyes sharpened behind his goggles. "Does 'dis friend mean to drag his old friend into trouble, perhaps? Because he should know, 'dere is no love lost between him and rebels any more than there is between him and the Empire."

"I don't intend to recruit you and I'm not here on behalf of the Alliance," Kenobi stated, choosing to be more direct. "I'm here for something more personal."

His words seemed to catch Hondo's interest as the old criminal's gaze sharpened and he leaned in ever so slightly closer over the table.

"And what would you come to me for?" he asked. "Something your Alliance friends can't or won't help with?"

"You've been more or less active since the end of the Clone Wars," Kenobi stated, moving past that question by ignoring it. "Which is why I came to you. I'm looking for certain individuals who've also been gone for a number of years and think you can point me in the right direction."

"Maybe I can," Hondo mused aloud, stroking his chin in thought. "For an old friend. But just so you know; I don't hear much about Jedi these days, if dat is what you are looking for."

"But you might have a lead," Ben pressed. "Somewhere I can start."

Hondo looked contemplatively at him for several long moments.

"Why don't you ask me and I'll see what I can do?" he eventually offered.

Ben leaned in, staring intently into Hondo's eyes in an attempt to convey how serious he was about his question.

"For a start; where can I find Ahsoka Tano?"

AN: Dun dun duuun!

A bit of an obvious cliffhanger, I know, but I thought it was time to bring her name up as well as show that Kenobi isn't just spending his time sipping tea with Mon Mothma or sitting on his hands somewhere.

Here's a belated Christmas present, everyone! Sorry I couldn't get it under the tree in time but I hope you like it anyway!

Yes, I am still alive and yes, this story is too. Real life as well as a number of other projects have demanded my time, but I haven't forgotten my writing. This was always meant to be something for fun as well as a way to work on my writing and storytelling. I know a lot of you are sad that I haven't kept to my old updating schedule. But while I may not be updating every month or so, I do remember this story and make time to work on it every so often.

This chapter in particular was hard for me to write not just because I was busy, but because I also got hit with some major writer's block and kept rewriting different sections of the chapter until I wasn't disgusted with it at least. In fact, I'm pretty sure this chapter took more editing than anything else I've ever written. I am aware that we are often our own worst critics, but I still wasn't satisfied posting this until I'd rewritten about half of it again. Winter's scene in particular had about four different versions I scrapped before settling on this one just to get the story out to you all. Any criticism you have about her section in particular can't be as harsh as what I've already thought to myself, so let me have it in the reviews!

Thank you to everyone for the kind words and support. I always appreciate constructive criticism and am willing to read what you all have to say about my story and writing.

That part where I mentioned Jacen and Jaina actually came from the book 'The Crystal Star' where the kids were kidnapped by an Imperial Remnant faction and brought to a pseudo Sith Academy to learn to serve the 'Empire Reborn' and Leia goes undercover as a bounty hunter to hunt them down. Book's not too great and has this bizarre story where Luke finds this extradimensional being with weird Force powers, Leia and Chewie go all Liam Neilson to get the kids back, and Han runs into his professional illusionist/criminal ex-girlfriend. Still, it has it's moments to shine. That 'make light and heat' trick was particularly interesting and managed to stick out as something even a small child could do. I liked the implications this had for defending oneself against Dark Side influence.

Until next time!