When Stars Die

Ronan Carduel

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Six months.

It had been six months since the old couple had led him and Hailee on a tour of their little makeshift settlement, six months since Hailee had lived with him in this Force-forsaken cottage, six months since their blow up fight, six months since she had left him on this empty, boring, depressing planet.

Not that Ronan was counting.

He had spent the days after Hailee left in a rage and then he had fallen into a depression that still hadn’t worn off even now. Most days he wandered the fields and jungle, avoiding the old couple except to get fuel and more food. They continued to be friendly, but he couldn’t handle their pity. It only reminded him that she was still gone, and wouldn’t be coming back.

Just when it had appeared to be getting better, it had gotten worse. So, so much worse. On a trip back to The Enigma for more supplies, Hailee had been looking at the transmitter in time to see a distress call. It had stirred her savior complex and she had stated that she must follow it. She would not listen to Ronan’s claims that it was a trap, that it would put her back in the hands of the Sith and the Jedi. After a screaming match that had felt much too familiar and much too painful, she had taken a ship the old couple had fixed up since Ronan wouldn’t let her take his. Since then, Ronan hadn’t been on his ship, for fear of awakening the memories that lay in wait.

His heart had been repeatedly broken, even before he had met Hailee, and after he had, she had only made it worse, despite her attempts to fix him. He used the pieces as weapons. Turn the pain into power. It was the only way to survive.

It was on one of these boring, endless days that Ronan found Hailee’s lightsaber. She had left with his, and his master’s saber was always hooked to his belt. The uncomfortable weight of the corrupt kyber crystal served as a constant reminder that he wasn’t all bad but he was bad enough to lose Hailee for the third time.

He picked up the hilt, turning it over in his hands. It felt remarkably like it had when he had held Hailee; warm and solid although a little questioning. He wondered briefly if, wherever she was, she had gotten caught and exposed for what she had done. Part of him hoped she did but another part of him wished she hadn’t and would return back to him.

He put the saber back in the small drawer he had found it in, shutting it with more force than was perhaps necessary. He straightened and looked around the shabby wooden cottage, averting his gaze from the bed. Maybe he needed to get off of Lwhekk.

 

Ronan Carduel

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Ronan was still on this Force-forsaken planet. He had the fuel to leave and travel to the nearest station, which was a ways off. He had no reason to stay here. And yet he found himself standing in the field, watching the grasses sway, with Hailee’s saber in his hand. The feeling of the hilt in his palm was so different from his master’s, which was still hooked to his belt. He glanced down at the padawan’s lightsaber. He pushed the trigger, igniting it. The blue blade illuminated, flickering once, twice, before stabilizing. Ronan was struck with a sudden memory.

The blue light flickered from underneath the tent of sheets. The two little boys snickered, covering their mouths to mute the sound. Ronan and his brother, Gavyn laid under the sheets of Ronan’s bed, flipping through one of their father’s books. At the sound of footsteps in the hallway, the brothers immediately switched off the light and pulled the sheets over them, pretending to sleep. Ronan held his breath for fear of laughing; a grin still stretched across his young face. The door opened, letting in some light from the hallway, but bringing with it a strange red light Ronan found familiar. His smile slipped off his face and he peeked over his fists clenching the sheets to see a hooded figure standing in the doorway, a red beam of light extending from a gloved hand.

With a jerk, Ronan turned off the saber. He fought the urge to chuck the saber across the field and instead clipped it onto his belt besides his master’s saber, which he raised next. He fought nausea as he ignited it. He could still see Hailee’s face as his master tortured her, as she looked at him with fear, disappointment, and anger that could shake the galaxy. He could still see his master, laying in pieces at his feet, still see his master’s corrupt saber resting in his hands. Even then it had felt like a betrayal to all things good; to that blue light and that last bit of laughter he had shared with his brother. Memories that he had tried to forget were rising to the surface, his brother’s face amongst them. Why did all the good things have to leave?

He abruptly turned off his master’s saber and hurled it across the field. A weight seemed to lift from his chest.

 
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Ronan Carduel

Character
Sith Order
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Champion

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Reylo4evr
Joined
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Maybe he had a death wish, or maybe he had gotten bored of sitting on his ass, alone. Either way, Ronan was leaving Lwhekk, pretending he couldn't see the green planet in the windows on his ship. His mental walls were sky high and his muscles were tense as he put in the coordinates for the nearest station. Lwhekk was so far away from the rest of the galaxy, one of the reasons he had chosen that planet to hide on. But he couldn't hide any longer; part of him wanted people to come for him- Jedi and Sith alike. He didn't think he wanted to see Hailee though, because he couldn't trust himself to stand up for himself and do what needed to be done. She clearly hadn't meant it when she told him she loved him.

Ronan jumped to hyperspeed, the space turning into blue streaks and swirls around him. Hailee's saber was clipped to his belt, replacing his master's saber, which still rested somewhere in the field on the planet behind him. He was in hyperspeed for a while, which allowed his mind to wander. He recalled the dream he had had the night before.

He lay slumped against the wall, blood that wasn't his coating the right side of his face and body and matting his hair to his scalp. It had been warm, in those first few moments, but then it had quickly dried. It cracked whenever he moved, a reminder of his failure and weakness. The man with the saber towered over him, the red light flickering menacingly. The man's voice emanated from the dark folds of his cloak, echoing with a deepness that lodged itself in Ronan's six-year-old bones. "Rise,"

Ronan had jerked awake, and blew the door off with the Force. He had sat on his bed, breathing heavily, and decided he was going to get off Lwhekk and go to any other world that Hailee had not been on and tainted with her memory.

So here he was, zooming through space, like the useless failure he was.

 
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