First Reply Chasing Ghosts | Jakku

[Othin Kells]

Chasing Ghosts
Jakku
Tags: Open

Epo-1 Interceptor
​

"What did they promise you? What the HELL did the Dark Empire give you that I couldn't, huh?!"

"Othin... it... doesn't have to be this way. I lead you astray, and I... I'm sorry. But now I have a chance to teach you right. The flaws of the Jedi I couldn't see! You could be... you will be... you will be the strongest Force User to ever live. Only if you trust me to mold you one last time... my son."

"...How many younglings were in the Temple, Master Orr..."

"..."

"I'm going to put you in the ground."


The snap-hiss of a lightsaber woke Othin from his slumber. Tears were streaming down his face. He couldn't stop thinking about the fall of Tython... facing the twisted thing that his Master became. He quickly shook off the memory once more and moved to the bathroom to wash his face. Othin didn't waste any time looking at his reflection. He couldn't look himself in the eyes... not in his current state. He put on what little gear he had and moved to the door, stepping out into a shoddy apartment complex made out of old barracks that had been salvaged out of a star destroyer. The blistering heat of Jakku's afternoon hit him as a squat Ugnaught waddled up to him. Othin was quick to toss him the room key.

"Thanks for the stay," he greeted in a business tone.

"Yeah, don't mention it kid..." the piggish man snorted. "You'd best get going. Caravan to the next town over leaves in twenty. Where the hell are you headed anyways?"

"Dunno," Othin admitted. "Think I'm chasing ghosts."

With that he was off. A quick walk over and he found the caravan, a collection of salvaged speeders and walkers tethered together to ensure that no individual got lost in the storms that were all but guaranteed to occur. A jawa was running a toll booth of sorts in front of one of the walkers, which seemed to have some sort of makeshift viewing deck grafted into the side that they were offering as a ferry service of sorts. Othin tossed the small hooded figure some credits and hoisted himself up a rusty ladder on the side of the twice-forsaken vehicle up to the platform. Once he was over the railing he leaned against it and let out a gruff mutter, more sounds of frustration than words. Jakku had tons of small scavenger towns littering it's surface. He knew that what he was looking for had to be somewhere in one of them. It was just a matter of finding where.

At least, compared to the three day journey the last caravan he tagged along with had taken, the estimated two hour trip to the next town over was compatibly quaint. With any luck it was the right place.

That would save him some time.

 

[Kaleleon]

Jakku was not the sort of place people visited unless they had reason to.

Most people passed through it. Scavengers looking for opportunity. Traders moving supplies between settlements. People trying to scrape together enough credits to leave. Others stayed because leaving cost more than staying ever would.

Kale had not come because of any larger purpose.

A spacer contact he knew had reached out a few days earlier asking if he could take a look at a freighter they had managed to pick up cheap. Cheap usually came with problems. This one happened to come with several. Cooling inconsistencies. Faulty power routing. A drive assembly making noises that generally meant something expensive would eventually break if ignored long enough.

He could have pointed them toward a mechanic.

Probably should have.

Instead he ended up helping.

That was usually how things went.

One repair became another. Replacement parts took longer than expected to arrive. Someone nearby needed another pair of hands lifting damaged equipment. A local transport operator recognized him from somewhere he still could not place and spent nearly twenty minutes insisting they had met before. Somewhere along the way, what was supposed to be a short stop became several days.

That happened often enough that he had mostly stopped planning around exact schedules.

Wayseeker life had made him comfortable with that. Sometimes he moved with purpose. Sometimes he simply moved because life tended to place people in front of him that needed help. Enough years operating outside more traditional Jedi structure had taught him that not every problem required lightsabers or grand solutions.

Sometimes people just needed someone willing to help fix things.

Jakku had plenty of things that needed fixed.

The spacer he had been helping pointed him toward one of the neighboring scavenger settlements that morning. Better supply inventory. Better odds of finding components they still needed. So Kale found himself moving through one of the salvaged settlements built from pieces of ships that should have stopped being useful years ago.

The heat settled over everything.

Metal.

Sand.

Buildings assembled from old war remnants and practicality.

Jakku had a way of making survival feel visible. People worked hard here. Adapted hard here. Kept moving because stopping usually made life harder rather than easier.

It reminded him of places he had known before becoming Jedi.

People carrying difficult lives because difficult lives still needed carried.

The caravan waiting outside settlement limits looked about how he expected. Salvaged speeders. Walkers modified enough times they barely resembled original designs anymore. Equipment repaired often enough that older pieces blended together with newer ones until it all became one functioning whole.

Practical.

Efficient.

Held together because people needed it to work.

Kale adjusted the strap crossing his shoulder and stepped toward the gathering travelers waiting for departure. Workers. Scavengers. Traders. People trying to get where they needed to be because standing still rarely solved much.

His attention drifted briefly toward one of the younger men climbing aboard.

Tired.

More than physically.

Experience taught him to recognize that much.

Then he heard it.

"Think I'm chasing ghosts."

Quiet enough it almost sounded meant for no one.

Almost.

Kale did not answer immediately. Sometimes people talked to themselves. Sometimes people hoped someone might answer. Years moving through the galaxy had taught him there was usually a difference. He settled himself near one of the support rails waiting for departure.

"Usually means they're chasing you too."

Simple.

Matter of fact. Not wisdom. Just observation.

Othin Kells

 

[Othin Kells]

Jakku
Tags: Kaleleon

Epo-1 Interceptor
​

"Usually means they're chasing you too."

Othin paused half way through chewing on the bamboo stalk between his lips. It was there to replace a cigara. He picked up a bad habit after leaving the New Jedi Order that he was trying to kick. A nose-exhale escaped the younger man as he reacted to the words.

"Yeah... I'm sure you know all about it..."

Force sensitive, that was all but certain. Othin felt it. He seemed a bit older, maybe by a decade or so. That only made him wonder if the man was out here to run from ghosts or because he already defeated his. Or maybe there were just that few places to go when you didn't have a banner to march under. It really only took a glance to know that the man was a fighter. He had probably seen the Maw. That was what the generation before him had to face, anyways.

Or maybe he had this guy all wrong.

"My ghost is less metaphorical, more physical," he stated with a shrug. "Lookin' for something lost out here. Though I guess lots of people are in a way." He waited a beat to turn the bamboo stock between his lips to the other side of his mouth. "What Order'd you leave behind, huh? Figure we both sense each other, so ain't gonna beat around the bush..."

He wasn't typically that keen to drag up his own Jedi past, but if anyone might know where to look for what had brought him hear a Force Sensitive was maybe a good place to start. And in a context away from the Temple here on Jakku.

Othin wasn't eager to step into another Temple again.

 

[Kaleleon]

I watched him quietly for a moment after he spoke, not because I was trying to figure him out, but because years moving through enough worlds had taught me that people usually told you more than they realized long before they ever actually explained themselves. The bamboo stalk caught my attention first. Something to occupy idle habits. Something replacing something else. The way he carried himself did the rest. There was tension there. Fatigue too. Not physical exhaustion. Something heavier than that. The sort that settled into posture and tone after enough years carrying things people never fully put down.

Force sensitive.

That much had already become obvious. Not because of the Force itself. Not entirely. People who had lived certain lives carried themselves differently afterward. The same way mechanics recognized mechanics without needing introductions. Pilots noticed pilots. Soldiers noticed soldiers. Shared experience left marks people rarely realized they carried. Sometimes it showed in how someone moved. Sometimes in how they watched a room. Sometimes in how quickly they answered certain questions and how carefully they answered others.

His answer told me enough without actually telling me very much. Less metaphorical. More physical. Looking for something. Or someone.

Jakku made sense for that. Places like this collected people chasing old things. Lost history. Salvage. Answers. Old mistakes. The remains of wars people moved on from while the worlds themselves never entirely did. Some people came looking because they believed something could still be found. Others came because standing still somewhere else felt worse.

The question he asked settled for a second before I answered it.

"What Order'd you leave behind?"

Simple question. Complicated answer.

My hand settled against the strap crossing over my shoulder while my attention drifted briefly toward the caravan around us. Someone was securing cargo toward the back. Another voice carried irritation over a repair that probably should have been handled before departure. Someone laughed nearby. Someone argued prices. Life kept moving around us the same way it always did.

"None these days. Not anymore."

The answer came easy enough. Honest. There wasn't frustration attached to it. No bitterness either. Just truth.

"I was Jedi."

The words sat there for a moment. Strange sometimes how certain things sounded different depending on where life found you saying them. A small breath left through my nose. The corner of my mouth pulled upward slightly.

"Still am, I guess. Depends who you ask."

There had been a time that answer would have felt simpler. Years had a habit of changing certainty into something more complicated than people expected.

My eyes drifted briefly back toward the horizon. Heat rolled across old metal half-buried beneath shifting sands while wreckage from wars long finished slowly disappeared beneath time and weather. Jakku wore its ghosts openly. Most worlds buried theirs. Covered them up. Built over them. Jakku simply left them where they fell.

"My ghosts aren't physical."

That answer came easier. Maybe too easy.

"But I don't know if that makes them easier."

Loss settled differently depending on who carried it. Some people carried names. Some carried places. Some carried moments they wished had gone differently. The shape changed. The weight usually didn't. My attention settled back toward him.

"Jakku's a long way to come chasing something."

A moment passed naturally.

"Means it matters."

Nothing more than observation. No advice. No attempt to solve anything. People worked through things in their own time. Trying to force answers onto someone before they were ready rarely helped.

"You know where you're headed at least?"

Not what happened. Not who he lost. Not why he was here. Just enough space for him to decide how much he wanted to say next. Or if he wanted to say anything at all.

Othin Kells