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Eyes stare at him from the darkness. Bode cannot see them, but he knows they are there, watching.
Waiting.
He dares not turn his back. Instinct tells him that whatever that creature lurking in the shadows is, it will lunge for him the second he takes his eyes off it. The only thing he can do is stand and stare down his doom for as long as he can.
His mind tries to find a shape, a hint of what is waiting for him. It forms many things, some tall, looming over him; some small, contorted into strange shapes as it drags its claws over the ground, eager to devour him. Bode swallows hard, fear gripping his heart in iron talons. He cannot falter. He must keep looking into the unknowable darkness, for anything else means certain death.
There is a noise behind him. A second creature. Bode would whimper in fear if his throat produced even the slightest of sounds. It comes closer. He can feel its breath brushing his neck, can sense the jaw opening to reveal dozens of razor-sharp teeth.
He turns. The creature lunges.
Bode awakes with a scream, cold sweat drenching his light robes and the bed sheet below him. He lays there, staring at the dark ceiling of his room, his chest heaving for breath, for what must surely be multiple minutes before he has the strength to push himself up on shaking limbs. Swinging his legs off the bed is a task unto itself, some deep, animalistic part of him screaming in terror as he puts his feet down on the ground, next to the dark abyss that waits under his bed.
He shakes his head at himself. Silly. There are no monsters lurking under his bed or in the shadows. Those are children’s tales, told in the creche to scare one’s agemates. He is a Senior Padawan, soon to be a Knight. He has no need or reason to believe such things. Still, he does not go back to sleep, his heart hammering at the thought of staying in the darkness of his room any longer. Instead, he makes his way to the living room and the adjoining kitchen.
Coruscant’s bright nighttime lights bathe the room in a pleasant, dim light, making the shapes of the furniture easily distinguishable. Bode breathes a sigh of relief as the fear dissipates, leaving only embarrassment at his own behaviour. Perhaps some tea will do him good before he goes back to sleep and forgets about this ridiculous scene.
It is quickly prepared, the motions familiar and soothing in their own right. By habit, he prepares two cups, and by the time he realises it, it is too late; the tea is already steeping. He sighs and runs a hand down his face. He must be more affected than he’d thought if he doesn’t even have the presence of mind to only prepare one cup. He ought to get used to it anyway; soon, he will no longer be sharing quarters with his master. The thought is a melancholy one. As much as he looks forward to becoming a knight, he will miss his master. The paths that have been offered to him—the ones he will likely tread—are likely to keep him from his master’s presence.
Is this what he is anxious about? Why these night terrors have sought him out? Something to meditate on. For now, the tea is finished steeping, and Bode carries the two cups over to the couch table, setting one of them down while settling on the couch with the other clutched in his hands. The warmth is pleasant, and the smell is familiar and soothing. Bode breathes it in deeply before taking a careful sip. He can feel the hot tea as it flows down his throat and settles warmly in his chest. With another deep sigh, he settles deeper into the couch cushions and watches the distant lights of traffic through the living room window.
The tea has cooled to far more drinkable levels than the scorching heat Bode likes to subject himself to when a door swooshes open and his Master’s footsteps approach. Bode looks up when Master Tapal lowers himself onto the couch next to him and gestures to the cup of tea on the table. “Were you expecting company?”
Bode shakes his head. “I didn’t pay attention and made two cups by accident. Feel free to remedy my mistake.” Master Tapal chuckles quietly and takes the cup, leaning into the couch. His weight leaves a significant dip, pulling Bode into his side. He doesn’t hesitate to lean closer. Bode is tall among humans, but Master Tapal is tall among Lasat, allowing him to easily hold his Padawan the way one might a teenager.
He doesn’t ask why Bode is up in the middle of the night, and Bode doesn’t volunteer the information, leaving them in comfortable silence as they drink their tea. Soon, Bode’s cup is empty, and a large yawn reminds him of his body’s need for rest. Master Tapal stands from the couch and leads the way to the kitchen, where Bode washes out his mug and sets it aside to dry. Master Tapal’s tea is not yet finished, but he sets it aside and watches his Padawan. One’s Master’s looks aren’t easily ignored, but that does not mean Bode has to react to it. He finishes washing up and turns to stare back at his Master.
Many times have they played this game. At the beginning, Bode would crack quickly and spill all his secrets and worries to his Master within moments. These days, he is far more practiced at holding out until Master Tapal either decides it is not worth the trouble to break his stubbornness or asks him directly. Tonight is of the latter variety: “What troubles you, Padawan?”
Bode meets his eyes wordlessly, considering his options. There is no reason to trouble his Master with silly night terrors. The memories of his dream are already fading, and he has resolved to meditate on a probable cause in the morning. There is nothing Master Tapal can do here. Bode smiles and shakes his head. “Nothing of concern. I’m going back to sleep.”
Master Tapal frowns—more so than what accounts for his usual expression of seriousness—and lays a hand on his shoulder. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Bode sends a brush of calm conviction along his Master’s shields. “I will seek out help if there is more to it, but I doubt it. Just a nightmare.”
Master Tapal searches his face for another few moments, his presence in the Force brushing Bode’s shields in return but not intruding any deeper than surface level. “Alright.” His hand falls from his shoulder, and he picks his mug back up, intent on finishing the rest of his tea. “Sleep well, Bode.”
“And you, Master.”
Dark eyes watch from the shadows as a young man hurries down the street. He is clutching a package and periodically looking over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of someone following, watching. He sees no one, but that does not mean he is alone. Fearful sweat trickles down his neck as he takes another right, ducking through a low archway into a small alley. Another turn and he finds himself at a dead end, houses on two sides and a large wall blocking the way forward.
The man crouches to put down the package. A shiver runs up his spine. There is something here with him. Slowly, he turns and searches the shadows at the other end of the alley for movement. A soft clatter has him jumping, his heart pumping adrenaline through his chest, but the sound is far away, coming from another of the many winding alleys. Still, his instincts tell him there is danger here.
He could call for his pursuer to show themselves; he knows they are there, but a low tremor of fear seals his mouth shut. Eyes still focused on the other side of the alley, he once again moves to lay down the package.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The voice is low, quiet, yet demanding attention. The man addressed freezes, searching desperately for any sign of life. Still, no one reveals himself to him.
“W–what do you want?” His own voice is too loud in the quiet alley, and he cringes at the fear permeating it.
The voice from the shadows answers him: “Tell me where to find the woman you work for, and I will let you go on your way.”
The man swallows his fear. He will not put his life in danger by selling out his boss to some unseen enemy. “Show yourself,” he demands, his voice steadier now.
A quiet rustle is the only warning he gets before a dark form slips from one of the surrounding roofs and lands in the shadows he has been watching. They disappear again, only the low glint of light hitting two dark eyes peering at him visible. “I suggest you divest yourself of your package in the harbour.”
Emboldened by having his enemy visible, the lone man laughs. “And why would I do that?” He has been in this business long enough to not be intimidated by shadowy threats. He is no child, scared of a man hiding in the dark.
This time, he receives no answer. After a few moments of silence, he realises the spot he is watching—the glint of light he believed to be a reflection in the man’s eyes—is actually the rim of a metal trash can. Terror freezes him to the spot as something presses against his throat and the low voice sounds from right behind him: “Because you value your life.”
He does, and so secrets are quickly spilled. Bode keeps his promise and lets the man go, watching him stumble out of the alley as quickly as his legs will carry him and run for the harbour. He shadows him there to make sure he really dumps the package as instructed. He needn’t have worried. Even from a distance, the man’s primal terror leaves an acidic tint in the Force as he throws the package as far out into the water as he can.
Bode laughs quietly to himself as he sits on a roof and watches the man disappear among the bustle of activity still happening around the harbour. To think that not so long ago, he had been the one afraid of the monsters in the shadows.
“Hey.”
Tayala is standing by Kata’s bedroom door, peeking inside through the slightly ajar door. Bode comes up behind her and slides an arm around her waist, letting her lean back into his chest.
“Hey. You’re done?” She sounds exhausted. They’ve both been busy at work, barely having a moment to themselves before they are working again, preparing for the next day. It’s a good thing they both love their jobs.
“Yeah. Took a little longer than I thought. Some of those troublemakers had some very interesting answers on their exams.” He presses an apologetic peck to his wife’s temple, allowing himself just a small moment to brush along her presence in the Force. Despite her tiredness, the foremost emotion he picks up is a soft peace and contentment at the presence of her family. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay, but Kata won’t go to sleep.”
He frowns. Kata is not the sort of child to refuse to sleep simply on principle. “Why?”
Tayala sighs and leans more heavily into his front. “They had a horror story night with her class. And now she refuses to lie down and let me close the blinds.”
“Ah.” He presses another kiss to her jaw and leans into the hand she places on his cheek. “Let me give it a try. Go take a break; you look like you need it.”
Tayala laughs quietly. “I need a break? You’re the one who’s been correcting exams for hours.” Still, she presses a kiss to his cheek in return and slips out of his grasp. “Fine. I’ll make us some tea.”
Bode hums and watches her shuffle away before gently pushing open the door to Kata’s room and stepping inside. The blinds are still drawn, letting moonlight flood the small room and illuminate the mound of blankets curled up beside the headboard. Bode chuckles at the sight and steps closer to sit on the edge of the bed. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Kata peeks out from her blanket fortress and greets him with a small smile. “Hi.” She looks tired, but Bode doesn’t need the Force to feel the adrenaline keeping her awake.
He lays a hand on where he thinks her leg is buried under her blankets. “Mama says you can’t sleep.”
Kata shakes her head and wraps the blankets tighter around herself. “If I sleep, the monsters will get me.” It’s a childish fear, but her tone betrays true emotions. To her, this danger is as real as a sharp knife or an open fire.
Bode levers himself onto the bed properly and pulls Kata into his side. She goes happily, curling into him. “What monsters?”
“The ones hiding in the shadows.” Her eyes scan the parts of her room not illuminated by the moonlight, looking for her predators. Bode silently curses whomever thought it a good idea to have a horror story evening and leave the parents to deal with the consequences.
At least he is well equipped to deal with this. “They’re not going to get you. Want to know why?”
Kata looks up at him, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and hope. He pokes her cheek and watches as she scrunches up her nose. “Why, Papa?”
“Because they’re not alone in the shadows. Your Papa is hiding in there too, and he’ll scare away any monsters that dare come close to you.”
Kata giggles and buries her face in his side. “You can’t hide in the shadows!”
“No? Are you sure?”
She nods. “You’re not as sneaky as them.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I can be plenty sneaky. Here, I’ll prove it.” He shuffles off the bed and makes his way over to the window. Kata’s fear flares when he reaches for the blinds, but he only lowers them halfway, plunging more of the room into proper darkness. Then he turns around to Kata and winks. “Watch.”
Using the Force to obscure his presence and slip into the shadows comes easily, the motions ingrained in his mind. Kata gasps softly as he melts away, leaving behind no trace. He kneels there for a few moments, enjoying the cloak of darkness wrapped around his shoulders, cradling him in their embrace.
“Believe me now?” Even his voice sounds different, dropping into a lower register automatically. It’s meant to terrify his targets, but Kata only gasps with delight, her fear evaporating in the face of a friendly inhabitant of the shadows. Bode smiles to himself and steps back into the light, slightly to the left of where Kata’s eyes are focused.
She gapes at him as he comes back over to the bed to sit at the edge. “You disappeared! That was so cool!”
He leans forward to ruffle her hair. “I’m glad you think so, Little Star. Think you can go to sleep now?”
Kata nods bravely, her fear now replaced with temporary excitement and soon deep tiredness. A big yawn demonstrates her body’s thoughts on the topic. “I’ll try. You’ll stay in the shadows?”
“Always,” he vows, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Anything for his little girl. Kata yawns again and finally lays down properly, still cocooned in her blankets. Bode gets up and closes the blinds properly, leaving the room in complete darkness. He doesn’t need to use the Force to cloak himself, but he does anyway, slipping into the familiar feeling with a smile.
“Sleep well, sweetheart.” His steps are silent as he makes his way to the door. Kata mumbles something unintelligible into her blankets in response. The door is thankfully quiet as he slips back into the hallway and closes it behind him.
He is making his way down the hallway when Tayala rounds the corner, on her way to check up on them. He almost says something before he realises she is looking right past him. Careful not to scare her, he pulls himself back out of the shadows slowly, letting his presence settle back into the world.
Tayala’s eyes grow wide as she watches him appear as if from thin air. “What–”
“Sorry.” He steps closer. “Kata’s asleep.”
Tayala eyes him, trying to decide what to ask about first. “What did you tell her?”
He smiles. “That monsters aren’t the only ones who can hide in the shadows.”
Bode skids around a corner, just barely evading the searchlight of another Imperial ship. Kata is growing heavier in his arms as he runs down the alley, praying that the next corner doesn’t spell their doom.
He hadn’t thought they’d come for him. Hadn’t thought they’d find him. He’d grown complacent with the peace he’d found, the life he’d built, and it has cost him everything. He can still hear Tayala’s voice telling him not to come home, to take Kata and run. He cannot afford to linger on her fate, not right now. Not when he has the most precious thing in the entire universe clutched in his arms, trembling slightly as she buries her face in his shoulder.
Another searchlight sweeps the street in front of him, and Bode skids to a stop and presses himself to the wall, clutching his daughter close. Only a few more streets, a few more minutes, and they’ll be at the spaceport. He can steal a ship there, something small and fast, fast enough to get off planet and jump to hyperspace with before they’re caught. There is no plan beyond that; they have nowhere to go, but that doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that Birren will be the tomb of the entire Akuna family if he fails.
The searchlight passes, and Bode sets off at a sprint again. He runs, ignoring the ache of muscles no longer used to being pushed so hard. The Force is his ally, but his grasp of it is fragile, slipping through his fingers anytime his mind wanders to his wife, to their home, to the future. If he could grasp it properly, he might be able to hide them for a few days, wait until the bulk of the Imperial presence is withdrawn, but he can’t, and so he runs.
Somehow, they aren’t caught on their way to the spaceport. Helping Kata climb over the fence is a harrowing ordeal, every second threatening discovery, but she makes it over and he follows her in seconds. Immediately, he scoops her back into his arms and sets off at a sprint toward the closest ship. Not a second too soon as a patrol approaches, their flashlights sweeping over the space he’d occupied only moments earlier.
He presses Kata close and prays that she is strong enough to stay quiet. He doesn’t have his saber with him; he doesn’t have any weapon, and while he could take down this one patrol with a little luck and the Force, doing so would alert others. The patrol comes closer, and Bode inches his way around the ship as slowly as he dares, careful to stay silent.
The patrol passes, taking their flashlights with them. Bode breathes an internal sigh of relief and begins weaving his way between the parked ships, looking for one that’ll save them. His arms are beginning to strain. Corralling kids all day and teaching them as much of his varied knowledge as he could hadn’t prepared him to carry his own daughter for what must be close to two hours now. His legs are in a similar state.
Finally, he spots a ship he knows will be fast enough to get them off planet. Only one problem. It’s being guarded by a group of stormtroopers. There is no way past them; the entire area is lit up with a beacon, ensuring perfect vision of any fugitives who might want to approach the ship.
Bode crouches to put Kata down. She sniffles and wipes at her face with the sleeve of her shirt. His heart breaks, but he has no time to console her now. They have to get to safety first. “Sweetheart, listen. Do you see that ship?” He points it out, and Kata nods. “I need you to run to it as fast as you can and get on board as soon as the stormtroopers leave, okay?”
She stares up at him with fearful eyes. “What about you?”
“I’ll lure them away and circle around.” He lays a hand on her cheek, memorising the warmth of her skin, her dark eyes, the curve of her lips. “Don’t worry. They’re not going to catch me. Your Papa is good at hiding, remember?”
Kata is clearly scared, but she’s his brave little girl and nods. Bode nods to himself and stands. “Remember, as soon as they leave, alright?” Kata nods again.
It’s a struggle to take his eyes off his little star and turn away. He has a mission. He has to be successful. He leaves Kata hidden between the ships and makes his way around to the other side. As he does, he breathes deeply, trying to meditate on his feet and find some sort of center. He can’t work through the emotions tearing at him right now, so he boxes them up and puts them aside. It works well enough to clear his head and allow him to connect to the Force.
The stormtroopers are half-hearted in their duties; most of them have their blasters lowered, a few even have them put away completely. Bode keeps his eyes on the few who still grip their weapons properly as he climbs his way onto a nearby freighter. Once at the top, he takes one last deep breath and prepares himself.
A sharp whistle has a dozen white helmets swivelling in his direction. Only two blaster bolts fly even vaguely in his direction before someone shouts: “It’s the Jedi!” and then he’s ducking off the freighter and disappearing between the ships. The parked ships allow for plenty of cover, and it’s almost too easy to lure the troopers ever farther away with only the smallest of glimpses.
He takes them all the way to the edge of the spaceport before pulling his last card. Ducking around a storage container, he draws the Force in close and disappears, melting into the shadows. The trooper’s confused shouts as they scour the edge of the airfield for him manage to pull a small smile to his lips.
The way back is far quicker, as Bode no longer has to make sure he is being followed. He weaves between ships, his mind set on the pinprick of light that is Kata’s presence. He is almost there when his wandering focus almost costs him his life. Just as he’s about to slip out from under another ship and make the last dash for escape, a searchlight passes right in front of him. Bode only just manages to pull his foot back, his heart pounding in his chest as he waits for the ship to stop and the sound of footsteps to announce his doom.
No such thing comes. The ship passes, and Bode breathes a sigh of relief before sprinting for the ship. Kata’s relief is palpable when he enters the cockpit, and within moments they’ve taken off and are soaring away into the night sky.
The coordinates of their jump are random, and Bode drops them out of hyperspace halfway there, executing half a dozen more aborted jumps to scramble their trail. Kata is silent the entire time, watching him until she falls asleep in her seat. Bode doesn’t sleep until they’re safely floating in orbit around some obscure outer rim world with enough fuel to last until the next day.
Sleep claims him quickly. It, too, is filled with nightmares.
Bode has no trouble sleeping these days. Not on his own, no. He hasn’t slept without some sort of drug in his system since he started working for Denvik. They’re small, innocuous pills, easily excused as regular old sleep meds. He doesn’t mention that they ensure his sleep is dreamless and just light enough to allow instant wakefulness in case of danger.
He gets deeper sleep on Nova Garon, though also with the help of drugs. The injectors he keeps in his room keep him under for a solid nine hours, letting him regain the energy he tends to lose on long missions. He’s not worried about sleeping deeply on Nova Garon. If someone manages to bypass the security systems he has installed, they could find an easier way to kill him too.
The drugs are the only thing keeping him from frightening his targets and his daughter with the screams that haunt his nights.
He’s on a mission now, slumbering lightly in his bunk on the Mantis. Greez has offered to find him a proper place to sleep, but Bode had declined, saying he didn’t want to impose. That was bantha crap, of course. The smart thing to do would have been to accept the offer. Few things build trust like going to sleep next to someone, allowing them to be close to you at your most vulnerable, but Bode hadn’t been able to bring himself to invade Cal’s privacy like that. As if he isn’t spying on the man every other second of the day.
He’s cursing his inability to be the spy he’s supposed to be now, rubbing sleep from his eyes and wondering what has woken him up. A quick glance at the clock confirms that it wasn’t the rising sun. He considers going back to sleep, the haze of drugs still comfortably settled in his system.
A brush of fear along his shields divests him of that idea. Cal. He swings his legs off the bunk and grabs his boots, purging the drugs from his system as he does so. The fear isn’t accompanied by any sense of immediate danger, so Bode takes the time to grab a jacket on the way out the door. Halfway down the ramp, he hesitates. Cal is having a nightmare. Would showing up out of the blue be too conspicuous?
Another wave of fear, this time accompanied by the sensation of a bubble popping, assuages his concern. Cal is awake. So is he now. There’s no harm in accidentally stumbling down the ramp of the landing pad just as Cal emerges from the backdoor. He scuffs his boots to announce his presence, making Cal jump a little.
“Bode?” Cal’s voice is still rough with sleep, and he is furiously rubbing at his eyes.
Bode smiles to himself at the frankly adorable sight. “Hey, Scrapper.” He stops a safe distance away, far enough that Cal can believe the darkness hides the tear tracks on his cheeks. “Can’t sleep?”
Cal shakes his head and runs a hand down his face. “Bad dream. You?”
Bode shrugs. He can hardly admit that it was Cal’s nightmare that woke him up. “Restless, I guess. Thinking about Tanalorr.” He looks up at the night sky, speckled with stars and decorated with the breathtaking views of the Shattered Moon and the Koboh Abyss.
Cal hums, surreptitiously wiping a sleeve over his cheeks, and looks up too. “We’re close.”
“Yeah.” He looks back to Cal. “You want to talk about it?”
Cal shrugs, shakes his head, shrugs again. “I don’t think talking about a dream is going to do much.”
Bode chuckles, and before he can stop himself, says: “Your Master teach you that?” It’s stupid and so, so careless. He’ll blame it on the drugs he’s already purged from his system later.
“No. Master Tapal would probably tell me to talk about it and then figure out exactly what’s on my mind three sentences in.” And, oh, doesn’t the reminder hurt.
“Want to let me give it a try?”
Cal looks surprised at the offer, but he shrugs again and nods over to the porch. They settle down at the edge, on slightly less sandy flooring, and Cal starts talking: “I was… standing in front of this long, dark corridor. I think there might have been a light on the other side, but it was so small, I could barely see it. I just knew there was something there; some reason I had to get to the other side of the corridor, but I couldn’t. I was just… stuck in place.”
He glances over at Bode then, a wry quirk on his lips. Three sentences, huh? Bode huffs and shoves him lightly. He’s no Master Tapal. Cal sobers up and continues: “I’m not sure why I couldn’t move. I was afraid of… something. I don’t know.”
“Afraid of the dark, Scrapper?” He teases, just to see Cal pulled from the brooding he is on the verge of slipping into.
Cal smiles a little, but the furrow in his brow doesn’t leave. “I don’t think so. I think whatever waited at the end of that corridor was what scared me.”
“What do you think it might’ve been?”
“A monster.” The sudden certainty is uncanny. Bode suppresses a shiver threatening to crawl up his spine. Cal shakes his head, the foreboding feeling falling away. “Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe there was nothing there. Maybe that’s what scared me.”
“Maybe I’m scared that there is nothing there for me, at the end of the tunnel. No more monsters to fight.”
“Sounds like you need some rest, Scrapper.” They laugh. Neither of them can shake off the feeling that there is something lurking in their shadows.
Tanalorr. Safety, at long last. Bode spends the first day scoping out the temple and the surrounding grounds, making absolutely sure they are alone. Kata sits at the entrance to the inner temple, afraid to go down the dark corridor leading deeper inside. Bode doesn’t force her to come with. It’s better if she stays outside for now. Who knows how stable this centuries-old structure is. He can get himself out of harm’s way. Having to look after Kata as well would make his explorations a whole lot more perilous.
Eventually, though, the adrenaline that had carried him away from Nova Garon and Cal’s rampage fades, and his body’s needs catch up with him. Kata is already asleep when he emerges from the temple, sitting against the stone archway, clutching Mookie against her chest. Bode figures it’s as good a place to sleep as any and goes to grab some mats and sleeping rolls from his ship. They don’t have a lot in the way of food, not yet, but he’s brought everything they’ll need to start a small farm, and they have access to fresh water. If everything goes right, they’ll never have to leave.
He falls asleep next to Kata, hope filling his chest.
The corridor looms darkly on the other side of the atrium, waiting like an open maw. Or, that’s what others would probably describe it as. To Bode, it’s safety, blocking access to those afraid of the dark as surely as a locked door. The monsters lurking in the dark are no longer anything to be afraid of. It’s the people who might be strong enough to penetrate the darkness that scare Bode.
He is right to be scared now. There’s something—someone—on the other side of that corridor. He knows it with the absolute certainty only a dream can bring. He knows that they intend to breach the darkness. They’re here for him, and there is nothing he can do but stand there and wait.
He can see, faintly, a light at the other end of the corridor. A tiny blue pinprick telling of a world beyond this temple, of a galaxy beyond Tanalorr. But he is in here, safe behind the darkness of the corridor, and all that is out there. Except that person, who is coming closer. He can sense them.
Perhaps if he stepped forward, into the darkness, he could hide. Slip past them when they aren’t looking. But where would he go? To the other side of the corridor? No way. He can’t move anyway, even if he wanted to. His legs won’t budge a centimetre. And besides, he doesn’t want to slip back into the darkness. He lived there for so long. Is it so wrong to want to revel in the light now? Has he been corrupted, turned into a creature of shadow, unable to stand in the light?
They’re coming closer. He can hear their footsteps now.
He awakes, drenched in sweat. A rawness to his throat betrays the fact that he’s been screaming. The bedroll next to him is empty. Kata. Where’d she go?
He sits up, still groggy from sleep, and rubs the last vestiges of his nightmare from his eyes. Kata is probably outside. She doesn’t like the temple, and she definitely wouldn’t go down the corridor by herself. He stands and stretches, groaning as his muscles release. He really needs some rest. He’s been pushing himself lately, Tanalorr finally within reach. But there is still work to be done.
He makes his way down the steps and through the large cavern before the main temple. Hopefully Kata hasn’t gone too far. He’d really like to get started on planting some of the seeds he’s brought today. The sooner they get a reliable food supply going, the better.
Sunlight, streaming inside from the entrance makes Bode stop in his tracks. Danger, his brain screams at him, you can’t go out there, you can’t, there’s something there, the Empire’s out there, Cal is out there, they’ll kill you, they’ll take Kata, they’ll–
He shakes his head roughly. What’s wrong with him? There’s no one here. He checked himself. They’re alone. He has the compass, the only remaining one, and neither Cal nor the Empire have any way of getting to him. Still, when he moves to take another step forward, a violent twist in his chest stops him, leaving him doubled over and clutching at his chest.
What is happening? Is he still dreaming? But he woke up. He knows he did. He pinches himself and hisses at the sharp sting. He’s awake. So why can’t he step forward?
A sound from behind freezes him in place. It came from deep within the temple, a low roar. He stands there, eyes fixed on the line of sunlight penetrating the chamber, while he waits. The sound, again, closer now. It almost sounds like a word. The silence is impossibly loud as he stands there, his back to the threat.
“Bode!”
Bode jerks awake, sweat cold on his back. He’s in the atrium, sitting against the huge doors leading deeper into the temple. He’s facing the dark corridor. Someone’s coming for him. Where’s Kata? He climbs to his feet on shaking legs. He’s not safe here. He’s not safe anywhere.
“Kata!?” She’s not here. She’s outside. She’s afraid of the dark. She always had been. There had been a time when she wasn’t. When had that changed? He staggers toward the corridor. He has to find Kata. They’ve got to get to safety.
Someone’s coming. They’re close. He can see their shape in the shadows.
Bode jerks awake with a scream in his throat. He’s outside. The sun beats down on him without mercy. It burns. It burns. His skin is blistering. He scrambles for the tiny patch of shade under his ship. It’s barely enough to cover him, and the sun is moving, always burning the tips of his fingers, the edges of his feet, forcing him to wedge himself further under the ship.
His back hits something hard. Before he can turn to look, it gives way, and he is plunged backwards into darkness.
Bode opens his eyes. He’s staring down a dark corridor. There’s a light on the other side. It’s coming closer. They’re going to kill him.
He blinks. The light is no longer blue. It’s green and moving like a wisp. He blinks again.
It’s red and accompanied by the low hum of a lightsaber.
He screams.
He’s floating in space. The swirls of the Koboh Abyss surround him. It would be beautiful if his heart wasn’t trying to beat out of his chest, screaming at him about some unseen danger. The Abyss begins closing in; claws form out of shapeless Koboh matter and begin dragging him away. He tries to fight. They’re too strong. He can’t. He can’t protect Kata.
He turns and sees the dark corridor. Someone is coming. No. They’re already here. He has to protect Kata. He has to protect himself. They’re here for him.
Something jerks. A collision. His head cracks against metal, leaving him dazed.
The darkness can’t protect him now. It’s too far away, on the other side of the atrium. He has to bring it to himself. He has to become darkness.
Warnings blare at him, no longer inside his own head. It doesn’t matter. They’ll be there soon.
The darkness is the only thing left that offers protection. Even Tanalorr has failed him.
The low hum of a lightsaber.
Red.
Blue.
Bode slams the compass onto the bar of Pyloon’s.
“Take it. Do whatever the hell you want with that planet.” He turns to leave. Kata’s waiting outside in his ship. He’s not sure where they’ll go. Anywhere. Far away from Koboh and the Abyss.
“Wait!” Cal’s lightsaber turns off with a hiss-snap. “Why? What– what did you find on Tanalorr?”
Only one thing.
“Nightmares.”