Private Threads of Hope

[Aiden Porte]

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 The search teams had withdrawn long ago.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...."

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: 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."

 

[Aiden Porte]

Lorn Reingard
​

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."

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: 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."

 

[Aiden Porte]

Lorn Reingard
​

The wind cut through the valley like a blade, sharp and clean, carrying the taste of ore and rain. Aiden listened in silence as Lorn's voice rolled over the barren expanse — steady, grounding, like stone holding its place against the storm. Every word found a place in him, sinking deep where the ache of failure had taken root.

He wanted to argue, to push back with the guilt that had haunted every breath since the Chancellor's disappearance, but he couldn't. Not when Lorn spoke of the younglings. The memory of their faces flickered frightened, clinging to one another as the temple shook. If he had not been there… if he had gone after her instead. Aiden exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. The what-ifs had become his prison. Lorn was right the Force had placed him where he was needed. Perhaps not where he wanted to be, but where the galaxy demanded. It wasn't mercy; it was purpose, and that had always been enough.

He let his awareness drift outward, past the sting of the wind and the ache in his chest, into the current that threaded through all things. Beneath the scarred surface of Kenari, beneath the pain that lingered in the earth, the Force still moved. Faint, wounded, but alive. It hummed through the broken stones and up through his feet a whisper, a reminder that even ruin could carry renewal.

His breathing steadied. The guilt didn't vanish, but it lost its teeth.

"She always said the galaxy needed people....." he murmured, almost smiling as he looked toward the horizon. "The kind who refuse to let hope die, even when reason says they should." He turned his gaze toward Lorn, the fading light catching the edges of his features. "Maybe that's what this is, not punishment, not failure. Just… the part of the path I don't understand yet."

The words felt lighter leaving his mouth. He straightened, shoulders squaring against the wind. The exhaustion was still there, but so was something else a small, steady ember that hadn't quite gone out.

He drew a slow breath, letting the valley fill his senses once more the hum of the air, the faint pulse beneath the ground, the echo of all that had been lost and all that might still be found. When he finally looked back toward the mine, it no longer seemed like a wound. It was a reminder.

He turned to Lorn, nodding once. "We keep moving forward," he said, voice calm, resolved. "Not because the path is clear… but because it's ours to walk."

Aiden in turn faced him and placed a hand on his shoulder in return. "Thank you, for coming here Lorn. The support means more than you know. He then chuckled lightly, showing a small smile, as he thought to his father. "He spoke very highly of you, you meant a great deal to him. Don't ever forget that."

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Aiden Porte​

Lorn's gaze softened as Aiden spoke, a faint relief easing the tension between them. Aiden's voice still held an edge, a lingering scar of deeper pain, but now Lorn heard a quiet, genuine strength beneath it; the kind that couldn't be faked.

When Aiden placed a hand on his shoulder, Lorn met his eyes. For the first time in days, he saw something steady looking back. He gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth lifting in a tired but honest smile.

"You don't have to thank me," Lorn said. "We walk this path together, for as long as the Force allows. You aren't carrying this alone, not now, not ever." His tone held quiet conviction, not ceremony or command. "Wherever this leads us, I'll be there every step."

The mention of Aiden's father drew a flicker of warmth and pain across his features. Lorn looked away for a heartbeat, eyes tracing the horizon where the last light faded into deep blue. "He was a good man," he said softly. "Better than most. He believed in the kind of hope that didn't need proof to keep fighting."

A small breath escaped him, a sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. "If there's any justice left in the galaxy, I hope we're making him proud. Force knows, I still miss him every day."

Silence followed, the kind that didn't need to be filled. The wind had gentled, the valley quieting around them. The mine was now just another shadow among many. Lorn looked back toward it, then to Aiden.

Lorn murmured, "Your father used to say hope isn't found, but built. Piece by piece. Step by step. You've already started doing that again."

He straightened, his cloak snapping once in the breeze before settling. "Come on. Let's head back to the ship. We'll start again tomorrow. The Force isn't finished with us yet."

He gave Aiden's shoulder one last, firm squeeze before turning toward the path that led out of the valley, the faintest smile still lingering.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Lorn Reingard
​

For a long while, Aiden said nothing. He stood beneath the bruised sky, watching the shadows stretch across the valley as Lorn's words settled over him like the slow hush of evening. There was something almost sacred in the silence that followed a stillness that felt less like absence and more like the Force itself pausing to listen.

His hand lingered on Lorn's shoulder, the warmth of his friend's presence grounding him in the moment. The ache in his chest didn't vanish, but it shifted its sharpness dulled by something steadier, deeper. He drew a quiet breath, letting it fill his lungs, and when he finally spoke, his voice was calm, low, carrying a quiet conviction that felt newly found.

He gave a faint, almost rueful smile. "You're both right. I know I can't protect everyone. You can only try, and trust the Force to fill the spaces you can't reach."

The wind stirred between them again, cooler now, carrying the faint scent of rain and dust. Aiden closed his eyes and reached through the current not searching this time, not grasping for what was lost, but listening. The Force hummed softly in response, not a revelation, not an answer, but a steady pulse that met the rhythm of his own heart.

"I think he'd be proud, I know he would be." Aiden murmured. "Of both of us. Not for what we've done, but for still standing here."


He glanced back toward the mine, its entrance now swallowed in night. The guilt no longer burned the way it once had; it remained, but tempered—remade into resolve. "We'll find her, one way or another." he said quietly. "When the Force wills it. Until then… we build. Piece by piece."

He turned toward the path Lorn had taken, the faintest trace of a smile touching his lips as he added, "And I'll hold you to that promise, you're not walking this alone either."

Aiden's resolved bolstered, and while he still had that feeling, it was severely lessened because of Lorn. He was grateful to have him by his side.

"Do you want to get a drink?"

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Aiden Porte​

Lorn stopped mid-step, glancing back at Aiden. A flicker of surprise softened quickly into a faint, knowing grin. The question, simple as it was, carried more weight than either would admit. After everything they had been through, the thought of sitting somewhere that wasn't buried under guilt or duty felt almost foreign.

"A drink sounds good," Lorn said, and his tone was lighter now. "Shiraya knows, we've earned one."

They fell into step, the crunch of gravel beneath their boots the only sound as they made their way down the slope toward the Republic outpost. The base lights flickered against the rising night. They were small, steady points, almost like stars scattered across the ground. The air smelled faintly of ozone and spice from the generators, mingling with the hint of rain carried on the wind.

As they passed the outer perimeter, Lorn tilted his head toward Aiden, a quiet smile tugging at his mouth. "How's Ensy ?" he asked. "Still following you around like a shadow?"

His tone gentled. "Are you thinking of teaching him? The boy is strong with the Force." Lorn glanced at him. The question carried an unspoken faith that Aiden could still shape something positive out of all the wreckage. "He could use someone like you."

Muffled laughter and faint music reached them as they neared the cantina. It was nothing more than a converted storage bay with dim lights and dented tables, run by an old Ithorian who had turned scrap metal into a bar counter. Tonight, though, it felt like a sanctuary.

Lorn smirked, nodding toward the door. "First round's on me," he said, stepping inside.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Lorn Reingard​

"I won't argue with that." he said, following Lorn. A smile on his face all the while.

The descent felt easier this time, the ache in his chest tempered by the simple, human relief of shared company. The Republic outpost shimmered faintly ahead, its lights blinking through the mist that had begun to gather an oasis of warmth against Kenari's cold, wounded landscape. Aiden's boots struck rhythmically against the packed earth, the cadence of movement something close to peace.

When Lorn asked about Ensy, Aiden's expression softened, a flicker of fondness passing through the calm veneer. "He's, something else." he admitted, with a big smile on his face. "He intelligent, eager to learn. He listens, he's got a good heart. And I tell you this, he is going to be far wiser than I ever could be."

There was a brief pause, and Aiden's gaze drifted upward, watching as the first drops of rain began to streak through the dim light. "He reminds me of myself, when I was younger." His tone softened, just quietly reflective. When Lorn brought up teaching, he showed a small smile and simple nod. He caught the look Lorn gave him that quiet, unspoken faith and nodded once, as if accepting something he'd been too uncertain to believe before. "I believe so, I truly believe I can guide him and teach him well."

By the time they reached the cantina, the night had fully settled, wrapping the outpost in a comforting hush broken only by laughter and the hum of repurposed machinery. Warm light spilled from the doorway, cutting through the dark like a promise. The air inside smelled of smoke, spice, and synth-ale imperfect, but alive.

Aiden hesitated for a moment just before stepping in, glancing back once toward the distant, unseen mines. The valley was lost in shadow now, its silence less accusing than before. He drew a slow breath and looked back to Lorn, a faint, almost genuine grin tugging at his mouth.

Then he stepped through the door beside him, letting the low murmur of voices and clinking glasses wash over them two weary souls who, for tonight at least, could trade duty for quiet company, and the weight of loss for something that almost felt like peace.

"How is Isla doing? And you and Ala doing well?"

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Aiden Porte​

Lorn led the way to a corner table, nodding a quiet greeting to the Ithorian behind the bar. A low hum of conversation filled the space; pilots, engineers, and soldiers unwinding after a long day. The air was thick with the scent of spice and synth-ale, an atmosphere that felt worn and real. Lorn set down two glasses, foam cresting the rims, and slid one toward Aiden before taking his seat.

"Good," he said with a faint grin, raising his glass slightly. "Couldn't agree more." He took a slow sip, letting the quiet settle for a moment.

"I'll be watching over Ensy with great interest. He's got that rare spark, the kind that can either light up a generation or burn too bright if he isn't guided right."

He leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "You'll both do fine together. Better than fine, actually. The boy will make you proud, and if we're lucky, he'll make the rest of us look slow in the process. There's something in him... a real clarity, maybe. I think he'll grow into a wiser man than most of us ever managed. He has the makings of a true leader, if we can help him find his footing."

Lorn took another drink, the amber liquid catching the dim light. When Aiden asked about Isla and Ala, his expression eased into something quieter, almost fond. "Isla's good," he said. "Still adjusting to life as a Padawan. She's stubborn, her mother's spirit through and through, but I think she's finally happy. She's finding her rhythm and learning how to stand on her own terms."

He smiled faintly, eyes distant for a moment. "And Ala, she's good too. Still figuring out life on Naboo. She's talking about stepping back into a leadership role within the Order. I hope she does. The Council could certainly use a mind like hers. The whole Order could."

He glanced across the table then, one brow lifting slightly. "Speaking of the Council," he said, his voice laced with curiosity. "I've been hearing things. Aiden Porte, possibly joining our ranks? Tell me there's some truth to that rumor." He smirked faintly, tilting his glass toward him. "For what it's worth, you'd have my full support. The Order needs someone like you up there."

 

[Aiden Porte]

Lorn Reingard
​

Aiden chuckled light as he spoke of Ensy, he was right in everything that he spoke. There was something in the young boy that would grow and cultivate and he would indeed, be a strong leader in the future. Aiden would his best to make Ensy proud, and he would do his hardest to make sure he didn't let Lorn down. He didn't say it, but he was incredibly pleased that Lorn would be looking out of Ensy as well. Aiden was confident in his own abilities, yet he wasn't perfect nor would he ever be. He knew there were Jedi out there that were far stronger and wiser than he, and Lorn Reingard was definitely one of them.

​

When Lorn spoke of Isla and Ala, Aiden's expression softened further. "Isla's strong." he murmured. "Stronger than she realizes. Stubbornness can be a gift when it's rooted in conviction." His mouth curved faintly. "And Ala… the galaxy and the Council will benefit greatly from hearing her voice again. She always had a way of reminding people that wisdom isn't found in silence, but in compassion."

The mention of the Council made him pause. He set the glass down gently, the soft clink of metal on wood drawing Lorn's attention before Aiden met his gaze. There was no denial in his eyes just a weariness touched by something like humility.

"You've heard?" he said with a dry chuckle. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." His tone shifted, quieter, more reflective. "It's true that I did reach out about, well about my father's old seat. I believe and feel I'm ready to take a bigger role as a Jedi. " A wry edge ghosted through his voice, as he nodded and lightly tilted his glass as well and took a drink.

A moment passed, and then he looked up at Lorn again, the faintest warmth softening his eyes. "It won't be for power, or recognition. It'll be to make sure the next generation doesn't inherit the same mistakes those that came before us did.. That Ensy, Isla, all of them have something better than we had."

The hum of the cantina rose around them voices, laughter, the shuffle of boots on durasteel. Aiden leaned forward slightly, a hint of the old mischief in his tone. "But if I do take the seat." he said, eyes glinting faintly, "I'll expect you to keep me in check. I know I can count on you."

Aiden gave his friend a gentle nudge and teasing tone towards the end. "You know, Ala, Isla and yourself should come over for dinner sometime. Force knows, I don't know how Ala and Isla are surviving on your cooking."