S H A D O W
The winds of change howled through the Jedi Temple on New Cov. War loomed, calling the gentle Jedi back to their origins as warriors and saviors of the righteous. The Sith had emerged, breaching the galaxy's defenses and seizing what they believed was theirs. In answer, the Jedi, empowered with the light, rose to meet the encroaching darkness. A battle not just for their way of life but for the innocent souls caught in the storm.
But what truly defined innocence and purity? And what condemned something as dark and irredeemable? Those who walked the razor's edge between light and Shadow often found themselves asking such questions. They were the Jedi Shadows. Warriors born of the light yet steeped in darkness, infiltrators who knew the minds of the Sith better than most. Tasked with venturing where others dared not tread, they undertook missions that could blur the line between protector and predator. Secrets and deception became their weapons. And when they strayed too far? They were cast aside.
Deniable assets. Lost souls. Shadows.
One such Shadow stood at the Grandmaster's desk, gloved fingers tracing the smooth, polished wood. This chamber, a place of wisdom and command, had been a sanctuary to many Jedi. But to Allyson, it belonged to one figure alone—Valery Noble. A beacon of light, a warrior who had never faltered, never surrendered to the abyss. She was everything Allyson had once aspired to be.
But fate had carved a different path. Partners had become adversaries. Two sides of the same coin—one walking in the sun, the other banished to the night.
Lifting her hand from the desk's surface, Allyson found it immaculate and untouched by dust. Was it a reflection of Valery herself, a woman whose record was just as clean? Or was this space simply used too often for dust to settle? Questions with no answers—constant companions in a spy's life. But she hadn't come for memories.
Moving behind the desk, Allyson took in the items carefully placed. A few framed images of Valery's children, of Kahlil—reminders of the life she had built. Yet one photograph stood out. It was unframed, worn at the edges, and when Allyson reached for it, recognition struck like a blade to the chest.
It was them.
A younger version of herself and Valery stared back at her, frozen in fleeting happiness. A soft exhale escaped Allyson's lips as she traced the image with gloved fingers. Had she ruined something that once had potential? Would things have been different if she had reached out more, taken the opportunities over shared campfires, and whispered confessions in the dark? Regret burned through her, sharp and unrelenting.
Closing her eyes, she let the memories wash over her—memories she had tried to bury but resurfaced with every encounter and clash with the Grandmaster. Parallel lives, bound yet severed. A threat to the future and a wound that had never healed.
With careful hands, she set the photograph back down—this time facedown, unwilling to leave a reminder of the life she had discarded.
From within her jacket, Allyson retrieved a small vial. Inside, a microchip rested alongside a thin slip of instructions. It was a gift—a final thread of connection, fragile and uncertain. Would Valery accept it? Or would she cast it aside, as Allyson had tried to do with their past?
She placed it at the center of the desk, resting it against a bouquet of orange mock, purple hyacinths, and nestled among them — a single forget-me-not. A message woven in petals and unspoken words.
Before stepping away, Allyson hesitated. Her gaze returned to the photograph.
She reached for it once more, torn between destruction and preservation. Ultimately, she tucked it against the bouquet, leaving behind the only proof of what they had once shared.
Then, as silently as she had come, the Shadow disappeared—fading into the night, carried away by the whims of the Force.
