She was sixteen.
Not a Knight.
Not even a full Padawan yet.
Just talented enough that the Council allowed her to accompany a routine mediation on Relis IV, a mineral moon with labor riots and faulty reactors. Simple. Educational. Controlled.
They paired her with Master Halren Vos, a healer-savant who believed calm could be taught by proximity.
He was wrong.
The explosion wasn't dramatic at first.
Just a pressure failure. A reactor chamber tearing itself open with a sound like metal sighing. Heat bled into the tunnels. People screamed. Panic spread faster than flame.
Aurelia felt it before she saw it.
The Force didn't rush her.
It fell into her.
Like a ceiling giving way.
Her breath hitched. Her vision sharpened painfully. She tasted copper.
"Padawan Veyr," Halren said, already reaching for her through the Force. "Ground yourself. Now."
She tried.
She truly did.
But fear nearby was loud. Fifty miners trapped. Children. A mother pinned beneath a girder. The Force did not ask her what she wanted to do.
It simply arrived.
She raised her hands instinctively.
The tunnel froze.
Not metaphorically.
Heat stopped moving. Fire hung in the air like cloth caught on a nail. Molten slag crystallized mid-drip. Sound collapsed inward until there was only a pressure whine behind her eyes.
The miners stared.
So did Master Vos.
Aurelia screamed.
Light tore through her veins, visible beneath her skin in branching gold fissures. Blood leaked from her nose, glowing faintly before splashing onto the floor and hissing.
The Force was not flowing through her.
It was overloading her.
She dropped to her knees.
The tunnel walls bowed inward.
Master Vos tried to sever her connection.
It backfired.
The sudden absence of guidance caused the energy inside her to surge violently outward. A shockwave ripped through the chamber, flattening droids, snapping durasteel like bone, and flinging Jedi across the tunnel.
Aurelia was at the epicenter.
Suspended.
Crying without sound.
Her blood floated in the air around her, each droplet glowing like a dying star.
She did not look angry.
She looked terrified.
Three Masters arrived in-force moments later.
What they felt stopped them cold.
Not darkness.
Not light.
Pressure.
Like standing too close to a sun that hadn't decided whether to rise or explode.
Master Talaris whispered, involuntarily,
"She's bleeding the Force."
Aurelia's eyes snapped toward him.
Green fractured with gold.
For half a second, every Master present felt her notice them.
Then she collapsed.
The suspended energy had nowhere to go.
It imploded.
Aurelia survived.
Barely.
Her body was burned from the inside out. Capillaries ruptured. Nervous system scorched. Her heart had stopped twice before stabilization.
In the medical ward, even unconscious, Force sensors spiked erratically.
She had to be sedated with anti-Force dampeners.
Something no Padawan had ever required.
No formal accusation was made.
No punishment issued.
But behind closed doors, the words were spoken.
"She is not channeling the Force correctly."
"She has no governor."
"She is a fault line."
One Master suggested release from the Order.
Another suggested isolation.
A third said nothing at all and simply stared at the medical readings, pale.
Because the data was clear.
Aurelia Veyr did not grow stronger with training.
She grew more unstable.
When she finally woke, hoarse and shaking, she asked only one thing:
"Did I save them?"
No mention of pain.
No memory of the collapse.
No fear of what she'd done.
Just that.
That was when the Council truly understood.
She was not dangerous because she might fall to darkness.
She was dangerous because the Light itself hurt her.
And one day, she would realize that the Dark Side did not.
Not a Knight.
Not even a full Padawan yet.
Just talented enough that the Council allowed her to accompany a routine mediation on Relis IV, a mineral moon with labor riots and faulty reactors. Simple. Educational. Controlled.
They paired her with Master Halren Vos, a healer-savant who believed calm could be taught by proximity.
He was wrong.
The Spark
The explosion wasn't dramatic at first.
Just a pressure failure. A reactor chamber tearing itself open with a sound like metal sighing. Heat bled into the tunnels. People screamed. Panic spread faster than flame.
Aurelia felt it before she saw it.
The Force didn't rush her.
It fell into her.
Like a ceiling giving way.
Her breath hitched. Her vision sharpened painfully. She tasted copper.
"Padawan Veyr," Halren said, already reaching for her through the Force. "Ground yourself. Now."
She tried.
She truly did.
But fear nearby was loud. Fifty miners trapped. Children. A mother pinned beneath a girder. The Force did not ask her what she wanted to do.
It simply arrived.
The Break
She raised her hands instinctively.
The tunnel froze.
Not metaphorically.
Heat stopped moving. Fire hung in the air like cloth caught on a nail. Molten slag crystallized mid-drip. Sound collapsed inward until there was only a pressure whine behind her eyes.
The miners stared.
So did Master Vos.
Aurelia screamed.
Light tore through her veins, visible beneath her skin in branching gold fissures. Blood leaked from her nose, glowing faintly before splashing onto the floor and hissing.
The Force was not flowing through her.
It was overloading her.
She dropped to her knees.
The tunnel walls bowed inward.
The Catastrophe
Master Vos tried to sever her connection.
It backfired.
The sudden absence of guidance caused the energy inside her to surge violently outward. A shockwave ripped through the chamber, flattening droids, snapping durasteel like bone, and flinging Jedi across the tunnel.
Aurelia was at the epicenter.
Suspended.
Crying without sound.
Her blood floated in the air around her, each droplet glowing like a dying star.
She did not look angry.
She looked terrified.
The Council Arrives
Three Masters arrived in-force moments later.
What they felt stopped them cold.
Not darkness.
Not light.
Pressure.
Like standing too close to a sun that hadn't decided whether to rise or explode.
Master Talaris whispered, involuntarily,
"She's bleeding the Force."
Aurelia's eyes snapped toward him.
Green fractured with gold.
For half a second, every Master present felt her notice them.
Then she collapsed.
The suspended energy had nowhere to go.
It imploded.
The Aftermath
- Twelve miners saved
- Two Jedi permanently injured
- One healer unconscious for six days
- One section of Relis IV declared unstable and sealed indefinitely
Aurelia survived.
Barely.
Her body was burned from the inside out. Capillaries ruptured. Nervous system scorched. Her heart had stopped twice before stabilization.
In the medical ward, even unconscious, Force sensors spiked erratically.
She had to be sedated with anti-Force dampeners.
Something no Padawan had ever required.
The Council's Private Verdict
No formal accusation was made.
No punishment issued.
But behind closed doors, the words were spoken.
"She is not channeling the Force correctly."
"She has no governor."
"She is a fault line."
One Master suggested release from the Order.
Another suggested isolation.
A third said nothing at all and simply stared at the medical readings, pale.
Because the data was clear.
Aurelia Veyr did not grow stronger with training.
She grew more unstable.
The Line That Haunted Them
When she finally woke, hoarse and shaking, she asked only one thing:
"Did I save them?"
No mention of pain.
No memory of the collapse.
No fear of what she'd done.
Just that.
That was when the Council truly understood.
She was not dangerous because she might fall to darkness.
She was dangerous because the Light itself hurt her.
And one day, she would realize that the Dark Side did not.
