Phantom Pains
Why was it always so damned cold? He knew the answer, that Illum had always been cold, and that at his age he was simply feeling its sting more sharply than he used to, but it didn’t stop him from complaining. He was in his fifties now, chronologically, late thirties physically thanks to an assortment of factors, but with ever step deeper into the caves, every gap jumped, every wall scaled, Cale felt the ache in his bones, and the icy sting on his skin.
But while saying he hadn’t come here for himself wouldn’t have been entirely accurate, it certainly wasn’t the driving factor. Cale had a lightsaber, a white-bladed thing he’d purified himself, but it wasn’t his and never would be. Its master died long ago when he’d bled the crystal, then again when Cale and Aleks had finally cut him down. But Aleks had never held a saber in seven years that was truly his own.
So they’d come to fix that. Cale would bury it in the snow, and he and his learner would forge blades anew.
Of course, they hadn’t known that the New Jedi Order had all but completely relocated to the ice world, or else they’d have gone somewhere else looking, even if it wouldn’t have quite been the same. But they were there, and there hadn’t been any sense turning back now. He’d had the boy mask himself the way they’d practiced for years, to hide from prying eyes, and off they’d gone.
“You know, the last time I was here I figured out I had a brother, weird vision thing.” Cale mused to his learner with an openness that was probably as alien to the boy as half the species that they stumbled across in their travels.
“Met a girl too, swooped in and save the day for her and everything.” He chuckled, remembering what’d been like the first day he’d laid eyes on Tallia Farn, and how utterly different things had been when he’d been a boy. So much changed so quickly after they’d grown up, too much. But that day in the caves, that’d been a good memory while it lasted. And to think he’d almost missed the shuttle that day, he could still taste the bread roll between his teeth as he’d sprinted aboard.
It’d been a different time in a different galaxy, it didn’t even feel real when set against the revolving door of nation-states that ruled the galaxy today. A majority of children in the civilized galaxy must’ve changed the flag they lived under at least twice by the time they reached adulthood, more than that depending on the species.
For a long time, that had been reason enough to close himself off, to stay far, far away from the troubles and tribulations of the never-ending game that was galactic politics and the war of light and dark. It still was reason enough, but where he’d once been resigned to accepting the ills of the galaxy, the runt beside him had forced him to change his perspective. He didn’t have to save the galaxy forever, he didn’t have to save the galaxy at all, he just had to do what he could.
The runt wasn’t much of a runt anymore either,
Aleksandr Stirsea
had grown into quite the young man, strong in his convictions, and skilled enough as a warrior, the fact Cale actually trusted him enough to build a saber of his own spoke volumes. All they had to do now was avoid getting arrested.
“You ready?”
But while saying he hadn’t come here for himself wouldn’t have been entirely accurate, it certainly wasn’t the driving factor. Cale had a lightsaber, a white-bladed thing he’d purified himself, but it wasn’t his and never would be. Its master died long ago when he’d bled the crystal, then again when Cale and Aleks had finally cut him down. But Aleks had never held a saber in seven years that was truly his own.
So they’d come to fix that. Cale would bury it in the snow, and he and his learner would forge blades anew.
Of course, they hadn’t known that the New Jedi Order had all but completely relocated to the ice world, or else they’d have gone somewhere else looking, even if it wouldn’t have quite been the same. But they were there, and there hadn’t been any sense turning back now. He’d had the boy mask himself the way they’d practiced for years, to hide from prying eyes, and off they’d gone.
“You know, the last time I was here I figured out I had a brother, weird vision thing.” Cale mused to his learner with an openness that was probably as alien to the boy as half the species that they stumbled across in their travels.
“Met a girl too, swooped in and save the day for her and everything.” He chuckled, remembering what’d been like the first day he’d laid eyes on Tallia Farn, and how utterly different things had been when he’d been a boy. So much changed so quickly after they’d grown up, too much. But that day in the caves, that’d been a good memory while it lasted. And to think he’d almost missed the shuttle that day, he could still taste the bread roll between his teeth as he’d sprinted aboard.
It’d been a different time in a different galaxy, it didn’t even feel real when set against the revolving door of nation-states that ruled the galaxy today. A majority of children in the civilized galaxy must’ve changed the flag they lived under at least twice by the time they reached adulthood, more than that depending on the species.
For a long time, that had been reason enough to close himself off, to stay far, far away from the troubles and tribulations of the never-ending game that was galactic politics and the war of light and dark. It still was reason enough, but where he’d once been resigned to accepting the ills of the galaxy, the runt beside him had forced him to change his perspective. He didn’t have to save the galaxy forever, he didn’t have to save the galaxy at all, he just had to do what he could.
The runt wasn’t much of a runt anymore either,

“You ready?”