Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Threads of Hope


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Lorn Reingard Lorn Reingard
The wind that rolled across the broken ridges of Kenari carried the scent of iron and dust. Even days after the mines had fallen silent, the air still trembled with echoes of what had happened there the cries, the blaster fire, the panic of that day when the High Chancellor had vanished kidnapped by the Black Sun. Aiden Porte stood at the entrance of the primary shaft, cloak tugged by the wind, eyes closed, hands steady before him in quiet meditation.

He had returned to this place more times than he cared to count. Each visit felt heavier, the weight of his failure settling deeper into his chest. The search teams had withdrawn long ago. Kenari-One was now built and fully operation and the Republic Intelligence had filed their reports and moved on to new crises, but Aiden could not. He would not. There were nights when he dreamed of her, Kalantha's voice caught between laughter and fear, the light in her eyes dimming as the shadows took her, and woke with the taste of dust and guilt thick in his throat.

He descended again, deeper into the tunnels that spiraled like arteries into the planet's heart. His footsteps echoed through the dark, brushing against the remnants of a forgotten civilization the cracked support beams, the faded glyphs carved by miners long dead. He paused at one of the junctions where the Force felt thin, as if stretched too far. His fingers brushed against the wall, and he drew a long, slow breath.

He reached.

The Force swelled around him like the tide: old pain, fear, exhaustion so much fear that it threatened to swallow him whole. But beneath it, faint as a candle in fog, there was something else. A warmth that did not belong to this place. He could almost hear her voice, gentle and resolute.

He opened his eyes sharply, but there was nothing. Only the groan of stone shifting far below.

Desperation clawed at him. He moved through the corridors again, tracing every path that might have led her out. Every new chamber he found was empty, scoured clean by time or scavengers. The Force whispered in fragments memories, impressions, the ghost of a presence that was once strong. Yet even when it yielded nothing, he kept searching, pressing deeper, beyond the sectors marked unsafe.

Aiden's mind circled the same truth: he had been there when she was taken. He should have foreseen it, should have protected her. The guilt had become his shadow. But even through the ache, a stubborn hope remained. He could not explain it perhaps it was madness, or love, or simply the part of him that refused to accept finality, but he knew she was not gone. Not yet.

He knelt in the dark at the heart of the mine, igniting his saber not as a weapon but as a light. Its blue hue washed against the stone, revealing the scars of blaster burns and footprints that led nowhere. He sank into meditation once more, the Force flowing through him like breath through lungs.

"Show me." he whispered, voice trembling. "Please… show me where she is."

For a fleeting instant, the air shimmered. The hum of his saber faltered, replaced by the faintest trace of warmth brushing his cheek like the brush of her hand, the memory of her presence. It was gone as soon as it came, leaving only silence.

"I was supposed to protect you, and I failed...."


 


Tags: Aiden Porte Aiden Porte

Lorn sat on a jagged outcrop, gazing at the scarred valley. He didn't meditate here. The Force felt broken, thinned by death and memory. Instead, he simply breathed, hands on his knees, eyes fixed on the dark mouth of the mine below. Aiden had entered hours ago. Lorn never tried to stop him; some grief simply had to run its course.

Footsteps echoed up the tunnel, and Lorn rose. Aiden emerged from the shadows, burdened as if carrying the world. His cloak was heavy with dust, eyes distant, and his saber glowed dimly at his side. For a long moment, neither spoke. The harsh, cold wind filled the silence.

Lorn stepped closer, resting a hand on Aiden's shoulder, a small, steady presence.

"She's out there," he said quietly, his voice rough. "The Force doesn't just burn out. It bends, hides, and changes shape. Whatever remains of her will lead us to her."

Aiden didn't answer. Lorn, however, saw a flicker in his eyes: maybe doubt, or that fragile spark of hope that had kept him going.

Lorn exhaled, looking towards the horizon where the first stars began to appear. "You keep going down there, chasing echoes," he murmured. "But when the Force calls, it's never from the same place twice. Perhaps it's time we looked somewhere else."

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Aiden's steps faltered as he reached the edge of the plateau, the taste of Kenari's dust still clinging to his tongue. The faint hum of his saber dimmed and went silent as he clipped it back to his belt, the blue glow retreating into the dark. For a long moment, he didn't speak. The wind tugged at his cloak, dragging lines of ash-gray fabric through the dying light.

He had no words left for what lay beneath the surface. Every passage, every abandoned shaft in those mines had whispered the same thing absence. The kind that rang louder than any scream. He had reached for the Force until his limbs trembled, until his mind blurred with exhaustion and the sharp edges of memory bled into one another. Still, she hadn't answered. Not truly. Only faint impressions. Warmth that faded too fast. Echoes that refused to form into shape.

Lorn's hand on his shoulder was the first thing to pull him back into the present. The gesture was simple, grounding an anchor when the rest of the world felt lost to haze.

"I told her I'd protect her." he murmured. "That I wouldn't let anything happen. I meant it." The words were brittle, breaking on the edges of guilt. "But meaning it doesn't bring her back."

Aiden chuckled as he looked over to Lorn, showing the smallest of smiles, trying to hide what guilt was in his mind and heart.

"You would think after everything, I should be used to this by now. I know you are right, it just still hurts."


 


Tags: Aiden Porte Aiden Porte

Lorn stood beside him in the fading light, his gaze steady on the horizon. The wind bit sharper, carrying the cold that follows sunset. He could feel Aiden's grief through the Force: a raw, unguarded tremor, the kind of wound that never fully closes.

"Getting used to this isn't something we should ever want," Lorn said quietly. He looked down, fingers tightening slightly on Aiden's shoulder. "Loss isn't supposed to dull. It's supposed to remind us why we fight so hard to protect what remains."

He paused, letting the words hang in the still air. "You couldn't have known what was coming," he continued, his voice low but certain. "Neither of us did. We were both caught off guard that day. If you hadn't been at the temple with me, they would have taken far more than the Chancellor. The younglings would have been gone too. The Force put you exactly where you needed to be, even if it doesn't feel right now."

Aiden's eyes stayed on the valley below, jaw set. "We serve the galaxy in a strange way," Lorn went on. "Always guarding something, someone, and still losing pieces of ourselves along the way. We stumble sometimes, but that doesn't mean the Force abandons us. It's simply showing us where we still have work to do."

Lorn looked back toward the dark entrance of the mine, already swallowed by shadow. "Kalantha isn't gone. I can feel it. The Force has its own timing, and when it's ready, it will lead us to her. We just have to keep moving forward." His tone softened, almost gentle. "You've carried enough blame for one lifetime, Aiden. Let the Force shoulder some of that weight for you. That's what it's there for."

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