Private Will of the Force

[Aiden Porte]

Enroute to D'Qar
Lorn Reingard​

The stars stretched into bright, thin lines the moment Aiden pushed the nav lever forward, and the cockpit filled with the familiar, weightless sensation of hyperspace taking hold. The ship's hum deepened into something steady and reassuring, like a heartbeat finally finding its rhythm.

D'Qar.

Even in transit, the name sat heavy in his mind.

Aiden Porte kept his eyes on the forward display as if the blue-white tunnel could offer him answers, but the truth was it only made space feel more endless. The briefing was already behind them, filed away into the clean, clinical language that the Order used when it was trying not to admit how fragile things really were. Distress calls, fragmented transmissions. A station groundside under attack. Unknown hostile forces. Farstine the first to catch the signal, the first to realize the silence around D'Qar wasn't normal.

Aiden had heard the word "D'Qar" as a boy, in the low, careful way his father spoke about the old days. It had never sounded like an ordinary planet. It had sounded like a scar. A place the Alliance in Exile had clung to after the Galactic Alliance fell, not because it was safe, but because it was out of the way and stubborn enough to hold.

Now it was sending out a call that felt less like a message and more like a flare fired from inside a burning room.

He glanced down at the compressed holo-log of the transmission, the little waveform broken in jagged pieces. Aiden could almost hear the gaps between the words, the parts where someone had tried to say more and never got the chance.

Beside him, in the other pilot seat, Lorn Reingard, The Sword of Shiraya is what his title was. A title and reputation he earned many times over. He had that kind of steadiness that came from discipline and experience, not bravado. Aiden wasn't going to disguise his relief when he decided to accompany him. His hands rested near the controls, and his gaze moved between the nav readouts and the ship's status panel, tracking everything without making it feel like he was searching for trouble.

"So, how's the family doing my friend? Isla still being a pain?" Aiden said with a small smirk. "And Ala still still driving you crazy?" He chuckled lightly with a teasing tone, before he looked forward once more.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Aiden Porte​

Lorn had been asleep before the stars finished stretching. Proper, unapologetic sleep, chin dipped toward his chest, arms loose at his sides. A low snore slipped out of him, steady as the ship's hum, until Aiden's voice cut across the cockpit.

The snore stopped mid-breath.

Lorn jerked upright like he'd been yanked by the Force itself, spine straight, eyes open but unfocused. He blinked once. Then again. His hand drifted toward the controls out of habit before he realized he wasn't flying.

"…Isla?" he muttered. "No, I told you, you can't recalibrate the..." He cleared his throat and rubbed a hand over his face, dragging himself fully back into the present. "Sorry. I was out."

He glanced sideways at Aiden, a faint, apologetic smile tugging at his mouth. "Family's fine. I think. I'm not home much these days." He leaned back, exhaled. "Yavin IV's been eating most of my time. Research, restoration, mysteries that apparently can't wait for a reasonable hour. The girls are buried in training anyway. Isla pretends she doesn't notice when I'm gone. Ala actually doesn't." That earned a quiet huff of amusement. "They're strong. Smarter than I ever was. I doubt they miss me half as much as I miss them."

His gaze drifted forward, unfocused on the hyperspace tunnel. The familiar guilt settled in his chest, dull and practiced. Work was easier than home. He didn't like that about himself.

He shook it off and looked back to Aiden, eyes sharper now. "What about you?" Lorn said. "Last time I checked, the plan was partner first, then child." One brow lifted. "You seem to have skipped a step. Efficient. Reckless. Very on brand." The corner of his mouth curved. "So. Is there someone waiting in the wings, or are you just collecting life milestones out of order?"

He shifted in his seat, stretching his shoulders. "Also," he added, nodding toward the forward display, "what did I miss about D'Qar? I remember alarms and urgency, then apparently I decided unconsciousness was the correct response."

 

[Aiden Porte]

Lorn Reingard​

Aiden chuckled as Lorn snapped awake, the abrupt end of the snore almost comical against the steady hum of the ship. He leaned slightly toward him, amusement bright in his eyes.

"Oh, I am sorry, my friend," Aiden teased. "I forgot Jedi in your old age need their sleep." A soft laugh followed as he shook his head. "I do not believe that. Isla and Ala love you dearly, you'd be surprised how much someone misses you. I would do anything to have Arhiia back." Aiden wasn't going to get to into that story, it didn't matter now. Aiden smirked as he looked over to Lorn. "And do not worry about Yavin. I will come by and help you soon."

When Lorn prodded at partners and children, Aiden's smile thinned into something quieter. "I had someone," he admitted, voice calm but edged with old familiarity, "And now she is gone. People leave. It is what happens." He glanced forward into the hyperspace shimmer. "I am not afraid of being alone anymore."

Then his tone sharpened, protective without needing to rise. "Lira is not a coincidence. I pulled her out of a Sith cult. They believe she is tied to a prophecy, and that if they consume her Force essence, they gain immortality." Aiden's jaw set. "I have spent years in archives, when I was a child I was practically living in there. I cannot remember anything like it in the texts. But they are still after her." His gaze stayed steady.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Aiden Porte​

Lorn listened without interrupting, hands resting on his thighs, eyes forward. Aiden's voice carried things he recognized too well. Loss said plainly. Acceptance that had sharp edges if you pressed on it. Lorn felt the old ache stir, the memory of being young and convinced heartbreak was something you survived by ignoring it hard enough. He didn't comment on the woman. He wouldn't. The younger version of himself would have tuned it out, and he had the decency not to repeat the mistake. Some lessons refused to be taught.

When Aiden spoke about Lira, Lorn finally turned his head. His expression stayed calm, but something tightened behind his eyes. Sith cults. Prophecies. Children dragged into wars that thought they were destiny. He had seen that story play out more times than he liked, usually ending in fire.

"So," Lorn said quietly, "you those who are in need of a hero seem to gravitate towards you. Lost, hunted, powerful, in need of saving." A faint smile flickered and faded. "You collect younglings who need a hero. Just like Ensy." He shook his head once, not unkind.

His gaze drifted back to the hyperspace tunnel. D'Qar pressed at the back of his thoughts now, heavier than before. "Sith don't chase myths without a reason," he said. "And places don't go quiet unless they're hiding something or dying."

He glanced at Aiden again. "Do you think there are texts tied to D'Qar?" His voice lowered. "Old ones. The kind that don't like being found."

 

[Aiden Porte]

Lorn Reingard​

Aiden's expression softened at first, the faintest trace of amusement flickering at Lorn's phrasing, but it did not last. The name Ensy landed with a quiet weight, and his eyes dipped for a moment as if he could feel the shape of that old history settling between them.

"Maybe," he admitted, voice low and even. "Kahne would always say a single person can't save everyone, but damnit I'm gonna try."

He kept his gaze on the forward display, the hyperspace tunnel turning endlessly, as if it could swallow every question they carried. "I'm not a hero, Lorn. I wish people would quit saying that." he added after a beat, firmer now. "My father he was a hero, my mother was an amazing diplomat, Sister was an amazing pilot......"

Then it came, a sudden pinch like before, Aiden closed his eyes, grimacing slightly.

Those were the real heroes. He was the one they were always rescuing, he thought back to the Alliance invasion of the Sith, his family saved him. To his rescue on Mygeeto, family saved him again. And even Solenne Abraxas , saved him countless times. He should've died so many times before, but somehow he lived again. Would it have been easier then, if he would have just been gone......

He took a deep breath, Aiden shook his head for a moment, his hand raised his his forehead, giving it a gentle massage before regaining himself.

After hearing Lorn speak once more he nodded his head. Aiden's jaw tightened slightly, his attention sharpening the way it always did when danger stopped being abstract. "You are right," he said. "They do not waste resources chasing stories. If they are after Lira, there is a reason they believe, even if the reason is wrong."

At the question about D'Qar, Aiden was quiet for a moment, listening with more than ears. The Force ahead felt muffled, like a hand over a mouth, not empty, not calm, just deliberately contained. It made his skin prickle.

"I think D'Qar could have texts," Aiden said at last. "Not because it is famous, but because it was a refuge. People bring their secrets with them when they run. Old data vaults, private archives, sealed crates no one wants catalogued. The kind of things that survive because no one has time to argue about what they are."

He glanced at Lorn, eyes steady. "And if there are old things there that do not like being found, then the station's silence makes more sense."

Beeping on console indicated dropping from Hyperspace in ten minutes.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Aiden Porte​

Lorn didn't look away while Aiden spoke. He watched the way the words cost him, the way his shoulders tightened like he was bracing for impact that never quite came. Lorn felt the familiar pull to correct him, to argue the point properly, but that wasn't what Aiden needed. Still, some things were worth saying out loud.

"You're wrong," Lorn said simply. No edge to it. No heat. "You are a hero to Ensy. You're one to Lira now. You leave places better than you found them." He paused, then added, quieter, "That counts, even if you hate the word."

He knew Aiden wouldn't accept it. Not yet. Lorn had worn that same blind spot for years, mistaking survival for insignificance. One day, maybe, the kid would see the pattern he kept pretending wasn't there.

Lorn leaned back in his seat, eyes drifting to the tunnel of light ahead. D'Qar felt close now, close enough to itch under his skin. The console beeped softly, counting down their arrival. Lorn let out a slow breath, tension easing back into something familiar. He shifted, settling deeper into the seat, folding his arms.

"Wake me when we're there," he said, already closing his eyes. "If D'Qar's hiding something, I'd like to be rested when it decides to say hello."

Sleep crept back quickly, but his thoughts lingered on Aiden. Hero or not, the galaxy kept orbiting him like he was one. Lorn suspected it always would.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Lorn Reingard​

The cockpit fell into a calmer hush, punctuated by instrument lights and the muted pulse of the ship's systems. Aiden turned his attention forward again, hands resting near the controls, posture composed. He stared into the bright corridor of hyperspace and let the Force stretch outward as far as it would go through the blue-white distortion.

He did not like the word hero. It tasted like a story people told themselves so they could stop thinking about the cost. Lorn's words lingered anyway, stubborn as a bruise you could not ignore. Ensy. Lira. Faces and names that had become anchors in his life, not trophies.

A time later...

The stars snapped back into pinpoints as Aiden pulled them out of hyperspace. D'Qar filled the forward display at once, a hard world of red dust and jagged ridgelines, its light thin and unforgiving. The ship's sensors began to chatter with scattered returns, most of them useless, some of them troubling.

Aiden's eyes narrowed as he guided them in on a shallow approach. The distress signal was faint now, distorted, but it still pulsed like a wounded beacon. He tracked it to a rough valley cut between dark stone spines and brought the ship down well short of the source.

He set them down one to two miles out, on a flat shelf of rock that gave them distance and cover. The landing gear kissed the ground with a dull thud. Dust swept up around the hull and drifted away in the wind.

Aiden killed the engines and sat still for a beat, listening. Not to the instruments, but to the Force. The unease was sharper here, like something watching from behind metal walls.

"We go in on foot," he said quietly, turning toward Lorn. "We find the source of that transmission, and we find out who is still alive."