The Falcon hummed softly, its engines pulsing in a steady rhythm as we soared through hyperspace. The battle was over. We had escaped. But the weight of what we had lost clung to the air like a suffocating fog.
No one spoke for a long time.
Luke sat at the holo-table, his arms wrapped tightly around himself, his eyes distant and hollow. I could still hear the way he had screamed Kenobi's name, the way his voice had cracked with heartbreak.
I sat beside him, but I wasn't sure what to say. Because I felt it too. The aching void Kenobi had left behind. The moment he was struck down, something inside me had splintered. The Force still whispered his presence, faint, like an echo refusing to fade, but it wasn't the same. He was gone.
Across the room, Han leaned against the wall, arms crossed, scowling at nothing in particular. He let out a breath and shook his head.
"Damn fool," he muttered.
Luke's head snapped up, his face twisting with anger. "What?"
Han shrugged, pushing off the wall. "You heard me, kid. Kenobi went and got himself killed for nothing." He gestured vaguely. "I mean, what was the point? The guy just gives up, lets Vader cut him down—what kind of plan is that?"
I clenched my jaw. "You don't understand."
"Yeah?" Han shot back. "Then why don't you explain it to me, kid? Because from where I'm standing, it looked like he threw his life away."
Luke shot to his feet, fists trembling. "Shut up, Han! You don't know what you're talking about!"
Han sighed, rubbing his face. "Look, I get it. You looked up to him. But you can't tell me that wasn't a suicide move. You wanna believe he had some grand plan? Fine. But dead is dead."
Luke turned away, his breathing shaky.
Leia, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. "That's enough, Han."
Han opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but one look at Leia's face had him sighing again. He held up his hands and walked off toward the cockpit, muttering something under his breath.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Leia hesitated, then stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on Luke's shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Luke," she said softly. "I know what it's like to lose someone."
Luke swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. "I barely knew him," he whispered. "But it feels like I lost—like I lost something important."
I exhaled slowly. "Because you did."
Luke turned to me, his eyes searching mine.
"He was more than just a Jedi," I continued. "He was… a guide. A light in all this darkness. And when he died, I felt it. Through the Force."
Luke looked down at his hands, as if trying to grasp something invisible. "I… I think I felt it too," he admitted.
Leia's fingers curled gently around his. "Then he's not really gone, is he?"
Luke blinked at her.
She offered a small, sad smile. "As long as we remember him, as long as we carry his teachings forward… he's still with us."
Something inside me tightened, but I nodded. "She's right."
Luke swallowed hard, then, hesitantly, nodded too.
Leia turned her gaze to me. "That goes for you, too."
I met her eyes, and for the first time since Kenobi fell, I let out a slow breath. The pain was still there. The loss still burned.
But maybe… maybe Leia was right.
Maybe he wasn't really gone.
The hum of hyperspace surrounded us, carrying us forward into the unknown. And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't afraid of what lay ahead.
The hum of the Falcon's engines was the only sound as I sat alone in the dimly lit corridor, Kenobi's satchel resting in my lap. The others were still in the main hold—Luke had finally let Leia pull him into a quiet conversation, and Han was probably sulking in the cockpit.
But I couldn't sit with them. Not right now.
My fingers traced the worn leather of the satchel, its weight heavier than it should have been. I hadn't even realized Kenobi had left anything behind until I found it tucked beneath one of the Falcon's storage compartments. Almost like he had placed it there deliberately.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I unclasped the satchel and reached inside.
Loose datapads, a few ancient-looking scrolls, and—my fingers brushed against something cold and smooth. A small metal cube.
As soon as I pulled it free, the crystal necklace around my neck began to hum.
I sucked in a breath, staring at the cube in my palm. It wasn't very large, just big enough to fit comfortably in my hand, etched with intricate carvings that glowed faintly under the low lights. The moment I touched it, I felt… something.
Like a whisper in the Force.
The crystal against my chest pulsed in response, as if it recognized whatever this was. A chill ran down my spine.
Was this Kenobi's? Had he meant for me to find it?
I exhaled slowly, pressing my thumb against the center of the cube. Nothing happened. I tried to open myself to the Force, just like Kenobi had tried to teach me, reaching out, searching—
A flicker of warmth. A soft, distant voice.
"If you are hearing this… then I am gone."
My breath caught.
The cube shuddered in my hands, and a faint blue light pulsed from within. I held my breath, waiting, listening.
Kenobi's voice.
His presence lingered in the Force, woven into the holocron, the information of what it was steadily seeping into my mind, waiting for me to unlock whatever secrets he had left behind.
I clenched my jaw, heart pounding.
Kenobi had trusted me with this.
I wasn't about to let him down.