(From the perspective of Kaelis)
The desert wind had quieted.
Only the soft pulse of the pylons remained, their rhythm steady, like a memory he couldn't quite reach.
Kaelis stood at the edge of the outpost, looking back — not at Reva'la, not at the structures — but at himself.
Or rather… who he had been.
The silver-haired figure. The delicate features. The feminine form he had awakened in.
He didn't know why it had come to him. Why that was the shape he had chosen — or been given — upon entry into this galaxy.
Was it a remnant of a psionic memory? A projection? A forgotten subroutine left to guess at "humanoid approximation"?
Or had it been something deeper?
A comfort. A mask. A question.
He didn't feel shame.
Only uncertainty.
Who was she?
And more importantly:
Was she still part of him?
---
"You're not as quiet as you think," Reva'la said behind him, arms crossed, a crooked smile on her lips.
"I wasn't hiding," he replied.
She walked up beside him, looking toward the horizon. The suns were beginning their descent again — long shadows stretching across the sand.
"I'm heading back to anchor camp. Rebel command's still waiting for answers I can't give."
He nodded once.
"You've given me more than I expected."
She held out a datachip — small, worn, encoded with her personal clearance.
"If you really mean to disappear, you'll need orbital data. Planetary windows. Flight vectors. I don't hand this out often."
He took it. Held it carefully.
"I'll keep my distance from the war," he said. "But if you ever need sanctuary..."
She smirked. "I'll find you. Don't think I won't."
---
She turned to leave.
Then stopped.
"My ship," she said, glancing back. "X-Wing's still slagged. You said you build things."
He smiled faintly.
"I'll rebuild it. Stronger. Faster. Atmospheric and spaceworthy."
"You trying to impress me?"
"No. Just keeping my word."
She gave him a half-salute — casual, unmilitary, but not without meaning.
Then she disappeared over the dune.
---
Kaelis turned back to the console interface.
The planetary data she'd given him scrolled before his eyes.
So many unclaimed places.
So much space to fill.
He reached out — hands glowing softly — and began to design.
Not a fortress.
Not a base.
A beginning.