Chapter Text
Blood slowly oozes across the hardwood floors, dipping and disappearing into the cracks. Its ruby red color glows, reflecting the fire in the hearth. The nearby carpet begins to soak the puddle, strewn junk obstructing the smooth path. The blood forks and twists in different directions.
His face twitches, shiny with sweat even in the darkness of his cramped cabin. The body of the ship’s passenger turns in the too-small bed, curling into himself with feet just barely dangling off the frame. Whimpers pierce the suffocating black of the room.
A man and a woman lie on the floor of their dining room. The man, closest to the front door and the first to fall at the weapon of the intruder. The woman collapsed closer to the fireplace, hurling silverware to hopefully slow down her attacker. Everything had been in vain.
The woman was cut down brutally. An ancient weapon gleaming silver in the fire, entering through the soft flesh of her abdomen and reappearing out through one of her vertebrae. Her cold pale hand appeared to be reaching towards the boy, hidden in a chest opposite where his mother fell.
The sleeping man tosses and turns more violently, his shouts becoming louder. His face continues to shine with cold sweat as he relives his most traumatic moment in the realm of nightmares.
The boy dares not leave the chest. He hears footsteps—heavy, boot like—slowly pacing the dining room soon after his parents’ bodies thudded to the ground. Circling the room, the entire house, until they are back again. They stop near the chest where he hides; his breathing begins to shallow. The boy squeezes his eyes shut, concentrating on not making a sound. It had been the last promise made to his mother; he plans on honoring it.
A chilling cackle pierced the deathly silence that befell the small, secluded family home. A patiently menacing voice calls out into the house, “Run and hide, little Skywalker. I will see you again one day.”
Heavy footsteps quickly retreat through the smashed front door. An hour after the sounds of a ship taking off had receded did the child finally emerge from his hiding spot. The cold, lifeless bodies of his once warm parents splayed on the floor. The blood was beginning to dry, sticky wet at the edges.
He kneels beside his mother, his tears completely obscuring her beautiful face. He thinks it better that way—he cannot see the glazed over look in his mother’s vibrant brown eyes with his own blurred vision.
So lost in thought was the boy that he did not notice the sound of heavy footsteps steadily approaching him from behind. It is only at a soft, forlorn whining sound breaking the silence that the child whips around, his heart beating furiously against his rib cage as adrenaline begins pumping through his veins.
A soft gasp escapes the lips of a russet skinned woman standing next to the Wookie. She is dressed in all white, reminding the child very much of his mother. More tears begin to stream down his cheeks, but he still refuses to make a sound.
“Mother,” the passenger whispers into the emptiness of his chambers. “Mother. Mother.”
The woman reaches a hand towards him, beckoning him towards her, into the safety and comfort of her outstretched arms. He so badly wants another set of arms to sweep him up. His chest begins to feel strangely heavy, a new wave of immense sadness crashing against the boy.
A piercing wail escapes his lips as the strange woman wraps him in her embrace. She soothes his dark waves back, like his mother, his father. The child’s small arms wrap around the woman clad in white; she is his safety line, his tether of calm as he releases an emotional storm. His wails are joined with the remorseful keening of his father’s first mate.
“We’re taking you to safety—” the golden brown woman promises.
The captain of the ship opens the chamber’s door, penetrating the stifling darkness with piercing light. His lone passenger violently sits up, his eyes wide with an ancient fear. The captain gathers from that stare that whatever had woken up his passenger had not been pleasant, demons better left to dwell in the fogs of the subconscious.
Clearing his throat, the captain looks down uncomfortably. He feels shame for seeming to interrupt a very private moment. The gruff young man stares holes into the wall, not looking at him at all. The passenger’s chest greedily gulps down as much air as his lungs can inhale, attempting to steady himself.
“We’ve just dropped out of hyperspace, we should be landing on the planet to drop you off in a few moments,” the captain informs his guest. That seemed to grab his attention, tired brown eyes piercing into the captain despite their exhaustion.
“Yes. Thank you. I’ll begin prepping my things. Thanks again, Owen, for the favor.”
The older man can’t help but crack the young man a tired smile. “Don’t mention it, Ben.”
Jakku’s surface gets closer and closer as the ship begins its descent onto the scorched forgotten planet.