You Were Born For This

[Hal Terrano]

The Outskirts of Braso, Kesh

History was important.

It mattered not if the content made for grim enlightenment for there were always lessons to be learned and knowledge to be garnered. This is what brought Hal Terrano to the planet of Kesh, a former dominion of ancient Sith. Given his tormented past with those intertwined with the Dark Side of the Force it would have been fair to expect the man to have turned his back upon such tales of old. No such luck. The importance that the fomer-Jedi placed in knowledge was far too great to be shunned in the face of personal discomfort.

History was neither inherently good nor evil (albeit it was often biased). History simply was.

Hal's life outside the Order had become nomadic in nature; hopping from planet-to-planet to pursue his life-long quest for wisdom. It was a simple living, he got by through lending a hand to communities that needed it, having to force himself to accept payment because without it the man would have never gotten very far in the first place. It was uncomfortable at first, after all, a Jedi's duty was to help the weak but not for payment, rather because it was the right thing to do.

That was not his life any longer.

This was evident by appearance. There were no iconic brown robes upon his sturdy frame, no, the man dressed in weather-appropriate plain clothes. Hardy boots for long hikes, trousers lined with far too many pockets and waterproof jacket. For those in-tune with the Force his aura would have given the man away but to the naked eye he looked like a sensible dad.

Of course, there were a few special extras. His lightsaber, hidden from plain sight in one of his numerous pockets and Avalore's kasha stone amulet necklace tucked safely underneath his shirt.

Having hired a native muntok as a mount to cross the vast continent of Alanciar he knew that his next destination was not far off. Braso, it was a small foraging village if his research was indeed correct and it would be his next rest stop as dusk was already giving way to the night. The massive pig-like beast that he rode upon snorted in contentment as they went at their moderate pace through the dense and temperate forest.

However as his approach neared Terrano couldn't help but note the heavy tracks in the trail that he followed, an unusual amount of traffic for such a remote and sparsely populated village. It was only when the smell of smoke hit his nostrils that worry began to flourish. Reaching out with the Force it only took a matter of moments to touch upon the overwhelming amount of panic and fear in the distance.

At the end of the day, history was always doomed to repeat itself.

Without hesitation Hal spurred on his mount, and with no time to spare they set off at pace to confront the disturbance.

 

[Naya Everos]

It had all happened so fast. One moment Naya had been humming a light tune while mending a trap for her father, and the next...

Chaos.

It wasn’t as if the village was that big. It didn’t take much to have a home in the center of it all; the stump on her front porch had given Naya a clear view of what happened as the raiders came through. But none of it made sense.

Her ears rang. Flames devoured buildings as she ran passed them. Either the flames were learning how to twirl and dance, or she was about to fall over. But she didn’t stop. She didn’t stop running because one thing made sense among the screams and the smoke. Her father wasn’t in the center of town. He was working at his shop towards the edge of the village. In the direction the raiders had come in from.


“Papa!” She screamed, her voice cracking at the force. She scattered to a halt before the shop. The hut burned viciously; the fire devoured the dried twigs and moss used to construct the roof, throwing off violent heat waves. Even the trees above it began to smolder and catch. The structure creaked, moments from collapsing.

“Pap-!” Her scream cut short as a the outline of a figure danced inside of the smoke. The figure crawled forward with a sense of renewed vigor, one arm clutching at its stomach.

“Naya?” It coughed back.

A spark of feeling returned to Naya. She surged forward in relief, her hand extended. “Papa, I-“ The fire roared as the structure gave way between them. “NO!”


Everything frozen in mid air, as if time stopped just moments before a beam could crush her father to death. At the edge of her thoughts she knew that time couldn’t freeze, and the fire still burned, so this-this-

A gust of wind cleared the smoke and gave Naya a glimpse of her father’s face. His eyes mirrored her shocked. But there was something else there. He slowly shook his head, his tone heavy. “Naya, no.”

She recoiled, the rejection catching in her chest. Time resumed, the structure collapsed in on itself. Naya fell backwards at the heat wave, a choked sound catching in her throat.

 

[Hal Terrano]

As the wind whipped through ever-thinning hair the former-Jedi could only pray to the Force that he would make it before...

Come on!

The smoke that before only penetrated his sense of smell had now translated to his sense of sight in the form of a malicious glow that surrounded the village like a deadly aura. He had bore witness to such acts of senseless destruction before, and there was little doubt that this would be the last time for Hal Terrano either. It was a grim prospect but also an undeniable fact; the galaxy's chaos never slept. All that he could do was try to help.

Please, let it not be too late.

Eventually the sight and heat of the flames were too much for his mount, the muntok screeching and attempting to buck the man off as he tried to urge the creature onwards. No further prompt was needed as he leapt from the beast and began his own sprint into the village, leaving the muntok to scamper away in primal terror.

Passing the parked speeders of the raiders his lightsaber was retrieved from his pocket and clutched tightly in his right hand, not yet activated as to not give himself away, which was ultimately futile.

“Ha! Look! 'Dis one's runnin' tha wrong way!”

No time to engage as a pair of Weequay loading up a repulsor-cart with pillaged goods spotted him much to their amusement. He was not here to apprehend them, he was there to save whoever he could. A sidewards wave of the hand sent both of the raiders flying with a powerful Force push, his methods of dispatching enemies still remaining non-lethal when possible.

Terrano continued to run, ears desperate to hear the screams for help rather than the lone crackling of heavy wood fire, his head and eyes darting around from side-to-side only to be greeted by blaster-scorched bodies laying prone upon the ground. All the man had was hope, hope that he could find just one survivor amongst the carnage.

Just one, please.

Then, a pulse. Through the Force it echoed, a surge of anguish that caught the man's attention and indicated that there was still somebody alive, somebody touched by the Force. Yet through the intense heat and the thick plumes of black smoke he could not locate the presence.

“Where are you?!” Hal cried out, his usually reserved stern tones replaced by a booming shout, “I am here to help!”

Unfortunately his voice would attract the raiders too, and this of course was accounted for as he activated his held lightsaber, a brilliant blue beam emerging a snap-hiss. The man stood his ground, adopting a defensive stance to await those that might come.

Blaster fire came first alongside a commanding bellow.

“JEDI! I'LL HOLD 'IM OFF! GET THE STUFF AN' GO!”

Nearly half a century of training had prepared Terrano for this eventuality. With astonishing ease he deflected the incoming blaster bolts harmlessly into the dirt at his feet. Another few shots followed and were dealt with in a similar manner.

“YER TOO LATE!” The bandit leader taunted from behind his cover of a wall not yet completely ablaze, the sound of his voice somewhat altered by the presence of a rebreather.

“No,” he replied softly to himself, still feeling that source of suffering lost amongst the devastation. That solitary life out there within the flames was enough hope for the man to steel himself, giving all the cause needed to remain composed in such dire circumstance.

A few more deflected blast bolts and the hidden Weequay could assume that his crew had gotten away with their ill-gotten gains. So with that he stepped out from his cover, his rifle spraying out a flurry of blasts straight at the former-Jedi.

“KARK OFF, JEDI SCUM!”

Hal's body flowed in his deflections, making his efforts look deceptively simple and not the result of ever-religious training. The raid leader cursed savagely as a parried shot returned and hit the blaster rifle straight out of his hands, its intended target. Enraged by this the Weequay instead chose to withdraw his sheathed vibroblade and charged at the lone figure, letting out a savage war cry in his native tongue.

Ultimately a foolish decision as Terrano simply held up his left hand, causing the alien to suddenly collapse. Force stun. An ability that held unlimited use for those of a pacifistic nature. It overloaded the target's senses, causing them to harmlessly collapse in a heap.

"I am still here! I will help you! Please, come out!

 

[Naya Everos]

Her scream was the answer. A weequay stepped forward in a column of smoke. One of the others, no doubt. And he wasn’t so keen to end up like his friends. Naya was pinned to his chest, the hot end of a blaster held to her temple as her body was used as a shield to protect him. Naya’s gaze slid to Hal’s, detached. Tears dragged clear paths through the soot coating her features.

“Light saber down, er the girl gets it.” It’s voice was sharp through the rebreather around his face. He did not move out of the thick smoke, the threat clear. Naya’s breath quickly turned into hacking coughs as the smoke suffocated her. Her thrashing lost steam. Her vision swam. She was dying, and that fact brought a spark of awareness back into her body. Something brewed within her. Boiled over. Exploded.

Muted, wet thuds echoed out in rapid succession. Before Hal even had a chance to act, the raider keeled over. Rocks and twigs impaled his back.

Naya crumbled forward, her fingers digging desperately into the soil to pull herself to clear air and towards the Jedi who had saved her. Because he had just saved her, hadn’t he? The raider had let go. Relief mixed with anguish. Sobs mixed with struggling breaths.

“You’re too late.” Her words barely made it out, every fiber of her -aching-. Her body gave out, soil crunching between her teeth. She was... “Too late...”

 

[Hal Terrano]

It was too much to hope that the situation could have been salvaged there and then, another cruel twist of tragedy waiting around the corner.

There was no hesitation in the man when the Weequay demanded his pacification; the blue blade disengaging without second thought. For some it would have been seen as cowardly, there were those even among the Jedi that wouldn't have obliged to such demands, but there was always a chance for compromise, sometimes simple conversation could diffuse even the most dire of circumstance. Time was not on Terrano's side, however, the ragged coughing from heavy smoke inhalation a beacon of urgency.

Before the man could even react there was another distressed eruption in the Force, and in that instance the life force of the girl's captor vanished into the ether. Hal grimaced as the raider's body crumpled, the back of him perforated by debris. The morality of it all was not at the forefront of the former-Jedi's mind in that moment, the rescue was not yet over as she too faltered on her feet and fell into the dirt.

No. Not too late.

Terrano rushed over immediately, almost sliding onto his knees as he came to the girl's aid. The first call of action was to retrieve the rebreather from the body of the raider, his face a stern grimace as he considered the waste of life for a brief moment.

“I am sorry,” he replied, his usually terse tone attempting to sound reassuring and warm as he gently rolled her onto her back, “but I am here now and I am going to help you.”

Affixing the rebreather to her face was the first step as it would let filtered oxygen flow through her lungs once more. The next step was simple enough, they needed to leave. The tips of his life-worn fingers touched upon her blackened forehead as he gently urged peaceful sleep upon her mind through the Force. It would easier this way, it wasn't prompt nor proper to discuss her trauma in that moment there and then, it could be dealt with later in a much safer environment. Her panic would only hinder them.

“You are safe. Rest now.”

He scooped her up, trying his absolute best to be gentle while still retaining a sense of urgency as he carried her out of the village. There was one last sweep through the Force, attempting to identify any other possible survivors but it was a futility, only the aura of the stunned raider remained in the inferno.

Mourning would come later, haste was needed now.

Rather awkwardly Hal hopped onto one of the Weequays' remaining speeder bikes, trying his best to position the hopefully unconscious woman in front of him, his left arm wrapped around the front of her torso while his right would attempt to steer the vehicle.

They would go back the way he came, to the city of Uhrar and from there Hal could decide his next course of action and more importantly talk to the poor girl about the horror that had befallen her.

 

[Naya Everos]

The world felt strangely still. The feeling struck Naya when she felt herself pull into consciousness, something abhorrently wrong with the peace that filled her. Her stomach clenched, the screams of her panicked village returning back to her in an instant.

She jolted up, their screams catching in her throat. The bright light of the room dissipated it all back to silence. Naya panted, stunned.

She jolted, the presence besides her belatedly catching her attention. She felt his heavy gaze and stiffened, strangely embarrassed and closing up on the spot. She took another moment to process her situation, recognizing she was in a hospital in the nearby city. She had come here once before, after her father had gotten blood poisoning from a rusty nail.

‘Urhar?” She croaked, finally acknowledging the man who saved her. A Jedi, none the less. What was a Jedi doing in the middle of the forest? She didn’t yet ask. There were a lot of other questions brewing.


“... And the others?”

 

[Hal Terrano]

Mercifully, their trip to Urhar was without event, mildly surprising given Hal's precarious one-armed driving at great speed. A combination of heightened reactions through the Force and the dwindling evening traffic prevented a traumatic day from becoming any worse.

Before long he was sat by the girl's hospital bed, mind steeped deep in serious contemplation.

She would have questions when she woke up. Difficult questions that held no easy answer but the blunt truth and Hal knew that he wasn't the right person to frame things in a gentle light. The former-Jedi couldn't fabricate warmth and that was a flaw of his own personality. Cold hard facts might have been the rawest form of truth, but they often held little regard for feelings, even he knew that delicate compassion was required here.

What would Avalore do?

His right hand clutched the kasha stone amulet that the healer had given him as a heartfelt keepsake. The crystal itself was traditionally used as a tool for meditation, to rid the mind of disorder and enable a clear head.

Beyond the young woman's dire circumstance of losing almost everybody she likely knew in one fell swoop there was a question of her future. She was touched by the Force and only now had it been realised, were he to leave her now then it wasn't a question of if the Sith would find her, but when. A heart tainted by such tragedy was perfect fodder from which the Dark Side could feed. It could be framed as vengeance at first, maybe even justice but it was a slippery slope from then onward.

Terrano couldn't leave her to that fate.

Yet he was no longer a Jedi, this was not his obligation or his place. Perhaps he could take her to them and then leave her care in their capable hands. Logically it was the best place for her but in the same breath there was a notion of hypocrisy on his part.

Finally the girl stirred, having spent the last few hours sleeping soundly with an oxygen mask affixed to her face and bacta salve applied to her various burns.

“Yes,” he replied quietly, still remaining seated by her bedside, his frigid blue eyes now looking to her own. The next question that followed was one that Hal knew was coming, that he had been rehearsing in his mind over and over again as if it could lessen the blow in any way, shape or form. It would not.

“You are the only survivor,” came the solemn yet stiff voice of the man as he made sure not to break eye contact with the girl during his words, “I am so sorry.”

 

[Naya Everos]

Naya’s eyes merely widened, her head spinning as it tried and failed to comprehend a world... without... little Ara, or her sister Myra. Or Arnel. His mother, she always brought them extra game in exchange for Naya’s skilled work with traps.

Hymna, Lia, Nike, Fero.

Her father.

Her throat had tightened with every name, her breath leaving her completely as her father’s face swarm into view. Soot covered. Burning. She choked for air, inhuman noises escaping her as she felt the world crumble out from under her.

No. No, no, no. She couldn’t breath, even when she ripped off the oxygen mask and peeled her face out of the blankets she found herself keeled over into. ”We have to- we have to-“ she heaved, fighting against her own body to get words out. “We have to go back!” How had she even gotten so far from them? How did he get her here?

She had no memory of it, only the pressing struggle for a proper breath. But that torture had followed her even here.

She tore out of bed, her expression crazed by grief and a driving need to fix this.

 

[Hal Terrano]

This reaction was to be expected.

It still did not make it any less unpleasant, but by saving her, bringing her to the hospital and choosing to stay by her side the man had little choice. This was his consequence and although such a matter paled in comparison to the poor girl's suffering he knew that he would have to bear some of the burden.

Hal's jaw clenched as she launched into panic and then heavy denial soon after. When was he supposed to intervene? Was it now? The former-Jedi seemed cold in his observation, his face not etched in sympathy but rather discomfort. Warmth was not something learned, but something grown and it didn't look like the man would be a late bloomer at this rate...

...and now she was trying to escape.

Now would be time for intervention.

“Stop!” Hal commanded, as the young woman began to escape her hospital bed, forcing the man to rise from his chair and take large strides towards her, his hand reaching out to grip her arm firmly.

“They are dead.”

The statement came out too harsh, too clinical but this was a band-aid that he could only tear off.

“There is nothing that can be done for them now,” he continued, his piercing blue eyes searching her own to trying to find something in her anguish-stricken face that he could aid, “but you are still alive.”

His brow furrowed, the thick etchings of age and constant frowning showing upon the man's forehead as he tried to deliberate what would next come out of his mouth.

“You need to accept this,” Hal stated, almost wincing at how harsh his words sounded, "so that you may begin to mourn for them.”

 

[Naya Everos]

Every sharply spoken truth lanced through her, driving a stab of pain through her core. There was no reprieve from her inability to breathe. He had forgotten to grab her lungs when he had pulled her out of the wreckage of her home, she was sure of it.

Naya wavered in his hand, looking as if she might faint one moment only to start quivering the next. She was struck silent, her anguish causing a disturbance in the force that was unmistakable. It felt as if she might explode. Until her directionless misery found a path to follow, and at last she settled on angry.

She yanked her arm out of his grasp, her eyes stinging against the pain of her burns. She didn’t care, she took that pain and she funneled it too. She raised her hands and shoved him back, screaming as she did so. “How can you say that!”

”How could you leave them! You let them die! You let them-“ Crap, now the sobs were stealing her breaths too. She turned from him, clutching at herself as she willed her body to calm enough for air.

 

[Hal Terrano]

"Because it is true."

Wherever grief took her, be it denial, rage, depression or beyond Hal would remain steadfast. Not just because it was his nature, but because he had to, for the girl's sake. Her torrent of anguish would swirl and grow into a hideous vortex but when it eventually came crashing down the former-Jedi would remain steadfast. Then hopefully the storm would subside, terrible destructive waves returning to tranquility once again.

Hal looked to her pain, features still that same grim line of the stoic as he allowed the young woman to shove and accuse him.

There was an urge within Terrano to scold her and give a terse reminder that this was unbecoming and that such behaviour would only lead down an insidious path. It was a reflex of the past and could only be held back with a strong self-reminder that she was not a Jedi, and nor was he for that matter.

She blamed the knowledge seeking nomad in her hysteria and while he would later mourn the loss of life privately Hal would refuse to accuse himself of such dire failure. Once upon a time, yes, but he was no longer that man. It was just another act of tragedy in the galaxy, a grim machination of the Force.

Somehow even Hal in his infinite social incapability knew not to suggest such a thing to her.

"They were dead before I had arrived," Hal stated plainly in all horrific logic, "there is blame to be had but it does not fall upon you, nor upon myself. I am truly sorry for your loss but there is nothing you can do now."

Terrano was still acutely aware of the coldness of his words; said with an iron conviction but lacking any warmth and compassion.

"You should rest, you have endured a lot of trauma," the man finished, plainly gesturing to her hospital bed with his hand, "I will not leave you."

 

[Naya Everos]

“No. No,nonono,” was all she could groan in protest.
She found herself sliding to the ground, her body curling into a ball as it tried to hold itself together against the pain. If only she could breathe- if she could get in some air then she could think- could process- could fix this.
All she could manage was vicious gasps against the cold tile, her head spinning.

​Naya, no.

Gone.

Naya, no.

Dead.

“Please no. Please no, no, no.” Her words were for no one, not the air or the ground or the cold jedi looking over her. Her tears ran over, flowing endlessly as she spiral down the rabbit hole of grief. And there would be no emerging. Not while she still had the strength for tears.

 

[Hal Terrano]

There was little more than Hal could offer her in terms of comfort.

Logically there were steps to handling grief. Listen instead of speaking. Let them express their emotions. Be patient. Those were the big specifics of handling these kind of events and the man was aware but only because he had read it. Of course there was more to it than that, but he had always functioned better under guidelines and instruction.

Those aforementioned guidelines said nothing about a hug, not a mention towards a lovely soothing cup of tea, personal touches that he so sorely lacked. All he could do was look down upon her grief-stricken form upon the ground and frown as her denial and pain left her lips over and over again.

Was there really nothing he could offer?

Just a comforting pat. Words of warmth. Anything. The hospital would surely have trained therapists, perhaps he could track one down and get them in here. No, leaving the girl by herself was not an option, for denial would surely carry her feet back to her village and then...

“I am sorry, but you will be more comfortable in bed,” he stated, somewhat sure that she would not even hear him.

Hal crouched down, and attempted to scoop the girl off of the floor, her small frame causing no great trouble for the man who ate his porridge every day. Were she not to resist too fiercely then he planned upon placing her back in the hospital bed where he would wait by her side until she found a greater sense of calm.

No matter how long it took.

 

[Naya Everos]

Sleep had taken Naya somewhere along the way. As it turned out, nearly dying and subsequently crying all the liquids out of your body took up a lot of your strength. When she stirred again the world felt different to her. Not in the 'I have experienced death and now my perception of the world has 180'd' kinda way, ...no, she felt unchanged there. She just felt distant. Like the world had been swaddled in cotton and moving through it was like fighting through quicksand.

Beneath the heavy layer of shock was the dull need to get up and go back home. It tugged at the edge of her thoughts, reminding her that she had almost died. For a brief moment, she wished she had.

She turned her head, her dull gaze landing on the jedi that remained siting besides her. Shock rippled through her before being swallowed back up by the cotton. She stared at him, trying to puzzle out his motivation and place in all of this. She trusted him, because he had saved her where she otherwise would have died. But his unsympathetic response to her whole village's death had her hating him his guts all at the some time. It was all very confusing and too complex for her addled brain to handle.

Her damaged throat burned for moisture. She finally reached out when the pain became too great, her slave-covered hand shaking. "Water," she begged. Because she had no clue what else to say to him.

 

[Hal Terrano]

Mercifully the girl found sleep once more, this time of her own volition. In the grand scheme of things rest would do very little to soothe her soul in the face of her now devastated life, but it was nonetheless still important to seek those small measures of peace where they could be found.

It also afford ample time for Hal Terrano to think.

What was the correct course of action? The Jedi? The more the man considered it, the more that conflicted that he felt about the very notion. Was it because he thought that it was the best place for the girl or because he was trying to limit the damage that might have come from this? As he sat by her bed the furrowing of his brow was indication that Hal himself was not quite sure of that answer.

A girl in this situation was exactly the perfect storm were she to find herself in the company of Sith. They would take her pain, her fear and her anger and feed it, corrupting all that she was as a person until there was naught but a monstrous shell of a person left behind. To fall was so easy, you just had to let go, and before long the girl would be partaking in the very sort of slaughter that had made her in the name of the Sith.

Would the Jedi even help? Would they turn her away? Too old? Too damaged? It had been so long since Hal had been a part of the Order that there were no resolute answers to be given.

Why was he even trying to make decisions for her? What right did he have to chose what she did after this tragedy? It wasn't his place. Of course saving her life was the right thing to do but why was he considering the options for the rest of her life?

The kasha stone amulet was in his hands once more as a familiar question repeated within his mind.

What would Avalore do?

Avalore would be warm, would be kind and would listen. Her voice would soothe and actions would comfort. She was a healer in the face of constant galactic war. Avalore would know what to do and what to say.

As he meditated, seeking distant advice from his dearest friend a thought came to him, something that Avalore Eden would do in times of strife. Getting up the former-Jedi poked his head out of the door before quietly summoning a passing nurse and making a small request.

When the girl awoke, he was back by her bedside sitting and simply waiting in his typical meditative state, seeking to give the room a sense of peace that might have aided any future conversation. Her croak for water was met by a small nod and an attempt at a comforting smile that almost came out right but still appeared far too grim.

“Ah. I hope that tea is okay.”

An Avalore special, she had given the same to him when he was in need of care. So the girl was poured a mug of tea which was then graced by a heaping teaspoon of honey. He would have to make it up to the nurse for managing to source a jar in the middle of her shift, but that was to be a later concern.

“The honey will help your throat,” he attempted to state kindly, offering her the mug handle first,” it should be cool enough to drink.”

 

[Naya Everos]

Naya looked at him unsurely, her shoulder's coiled and gaze untrusting. She resembled a wild animal in that moment, corner and coiled, unsure what would come next. She took the cup with no words, leveling it to her mouth while still watching him skeptically the whole time.

He was right, it did soothe her throat. She wish it didn't, just so she could hate him for it. Of all the pain she felt, there was very little outlet for it besides this man sitting before her, who lacked empathy and took her away. His attempt to smile and be kind threw her for more loops. She wanted to cry again, if just because that had been simple to understand and process. But all her emotions had burned themselves. She sat numb and empty before him.

Through the emptiness that occupied her, only one thought truly came to mind. Why? It echoed and bubbled up inside her, until it found its way to her mouth and she uttered the word.

"Why are you doing this?" She clarified, clearing her throat against the hoarseness. A faint memory tickled at her, like maybe she had already asked him this. But his answer must not have been enough, because it still didn't make sense. What kind of stranger would go to such extremes. Especially after staying still and watching the rest of her village die.

 

[Hal Terrano]

A cup of tea, truly the solution to many of life's problems, if only for a fleeting moment.

“Because I want to help,” came his ever-blunt response as he looked to her, his steadfast gaze trying to offer the woman his truth but perhaps only came across as naught but intense. Again features attempted to soften, but it just made the man look more concerned than kind and Terrano was very much aware of that.

“It may not seem that way,” he offered with knotted brow, finally giving up on any attempt to seem amiable, “and I apologise that I cannot offer you more comfort, but this is the way that I am.”

Speaking of, perhaps an introduction and an explanation at long last would clear the fog somewhat.

“I am Hal Terrano, former Jedi Master and seeker of knowledge. I have been travelling across Kesh in search of ancient Sith lore. Your village, Braso, was the location of my next rest stop but unfortunately the raiders had attacked before my arrival.”

There were other elements that the man thought to add to his explanation. That had he arrived a touch earlier then there would have been a chance that more could have been saved. Earlier still and perhaps the tragedy could have been averted altogether. He pondered the mention of the Force, and how it weaved its way through the entire galaxy, touching and guiding everything in its path meaning that there were no coincidences, that Hal Terrano was supposed to get there when he did, that the village of Braso had to perish and that she had to be the only one to live.

Some things better left unspoken.

“You were the only person that I found still alive,” the older man spoke after a small deliberate silence, “and I did not wish to leave you to wake up on your own.”

It would have somehow been more traumatic than facing his largely robotic presence. At least Terrano had some answers for the girl, even if they were not the answers wanted.

“Do you know that you are Force-sensitive?” Hal finally asked, his mind now turning to the more pressing matter of the future. It was not forgotten that in the clutches of such severe emotional turmoil the girl herself had killed one of the Weequay in a wild outburst.

Another detail left absent.