4 BBY — Hyperspace — The Fondor Haul Craft hums quietly as it glides through the vastness of hyperspace. Arya sits in the passenger seat, her gaze fixed out the viewport at the swirling blue and white streaks that characterize faster-than-light travel. However, her mind is anything but at ease.
The pilot, who has introduced himself only as the Proprietor, guides the ship with a calm demeanor, but Arya can’t shake the feeling of unease that clings to her. He has been cryptic from the start. His reluctance to share his name has raised a multitude of questions in Arya’s mind. Who is he really, and what is his connection to the senator? The fact that he runs an antiquities dealer on Coruscant, coupled with his knowledge of her past encounters with the Inquisitors, feels like a dangerous coincidence. The timing of it all is troubling—she’s worried about attracting unwanted attention, and yet she has found a way out.
Arya breaks the silence that has enveloped them since they jumped to hyperspace. “You’ve never shared your full name with me.”
He glances over, eyebrows raised slightly, “Does it really matter? I’m the Proprietor, and that should be enough.”
“It matters to me,” Arya presses, her tone firm. “I need to know who I’m working with.”
He hesitates, the tension in his jaw evident. “Fine. It’s Clem.”
“Clem,” she repeats, tasting the name on her lips. “And what about the Inquisitors? More specifically, those two I encountered on Coruscant? You seem to know a lot about me.”
His expression darkens, a flicker of something — fear? — crossing his face before it retreats behind a mask of indifference. “Let’s just say they have a vested interest in finding you. You’ve become a blip on their radar, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
Arya nods slowly, processing his words. The flight continues tense and uneventful, punctuated only by the soft beeping of the ship’s systems.
4 BBY — Chandrila — As they descend towards Chandrila, Arya feels a sense of relief wash over her. Clem brings the ship in with less covert drama than their departure from Coruscant, adopting a shopkeeper persona that feels like a mask. He claims to be Jerol, the pilot of an Alderaanian freighter, and Arya can’t help but feel a sense of familiarity with his act.
The Fondor Haul Craft lands at the private spaceport of the senator’s estate without going through customs, a luxury afforded by their connections. Once they disembark, Arya quickly grabs her satchel, ensuring the commission parcel remains secure. They hop onto a speeder, and as they ride, Arya checks in with Nora via comms but hears nothing in reply.
When they arrive at Nora’s flat, Arya notices the door is slightly ajar. A sense of foreboding settles in her stomach, and she signals to Clem that something isn’t right. Quietly, she communicates with BD, instructing it to keep an eye on the windows.
“Tuk Tuk?” she calls out, hoping to hear the familiar meow of Qardin’s Lothcat. Instead, an eerie silence envelops her. Pushing the door open, Arya steps inside, her heart racing. The sight that greets her is nothing short of a nightmare. The place has been ransacked—papers strewn across the floor, furniture overturned. “Nora!” Arya calls out, panic creeping into her voice. And then she sees her. Nora lies motionless on the floor, surrounded by cuts and burn marks. Arya’s breath catches in her throat as dread settles over her like a heavy blanket. She rushes to Nora’s side, checking for signs of life.
“No, no, no…” Arya whispers, her heart pounding. “Nora, please!” But there is no response. Nora is dead.
Arya’s eyes dart around the room, taking in the chaos. The locker has been broken into, and someone was clearly looking for something specific. As she glances under the bed, her heart flutters. There’s Tuk Tuk, Qardin’s Lothcat, hiding with the lightsaber.
“What happened here?” Clem murmurs, his tone devoid of emotion.
Arya looks at him, anger rising within her. “Someone broke in. They wanted something — something important.” She spots the broken locker, her pulse quickening as she realizes what is missing. The Atlas of the Force, the Jedi Path Text, two holocrons — they’re all gone, along with the lightsaber power cell.
“Clem,” Arya says sharply, her voice steady despite the chaos around her. “You didn’t pay me in full. This is your fault!”
He shrugs, his expression unreadable. “I had my own agenda. You were just a means to an end.”
Arya feels the heat of anger rise within her. “You knew this would happen!”
“Enough,” he snaps back, his patience wearing thin. “You need to choose. Do you want to take that cat and run, or do you want to stick with me and see this mission through?”
Arya hesitates, torn between her loyalty to Nora and the urgency of the situation. “I choose Tuk Tuk,” she declares, scooping up the frightened Lothcat. Clem gives her a stern look and leaves.
Arya springs into action. “We need to clear out of here. I’ll contact the Alliance for help,” she says to herself, her mind racing. “And I’ll reach out to R4-LF1 (RALFI) for intel on the situation.” Arya gathers her belongings and piles everything into Nora’s speeder. She knows she’s running out of time. BD scans the area for surveillance as they make their exit.
Once on the road, Arya feels a mix of adrenaline and grief. The loss of Nora weighs heavily on her heart, but she pushes it aside, focusing on their immediate escape. As Arya, BD and Tuk Tuk make their way to Shosmi’s ship, Arya can’t shake the feeling that this is more than just a coincidence. The situation feels orchestrated, and she can’t help but wonder what the implications of this entire ordeal will be.
When they reach the ship, Arya is greeted by Shosmi, who quickly assesses the situation. “What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Worse,” Arya replies, her voice strained. “Nora… she’s gone. We need to get off-world. Now.”
Shosmi’s expression hardens with determination. “You’re safe here. Tell me everything.”
As they sit down for a meal, Arya spills the details of the flat and the Jedi texts, sharing her fears and the urgency of their situation. She asks for transport off-world, her heart racing with the weight of her decisions. During dinner, Shosmi reveals her own history. She trades in spiritual items, seeking to return Jedi artifacts to those who can use them. “Have you ever heard of the Hidden Path?” she asks, her eyes searching Arya’s.
Arya shakes her head. “No.”
“It’s a group of individuals risking their lives to find Force users, Padawans, and fallen Jedi to help them start anew. They transport them to the Outer Rim, training those who are willing to learn.”
Arya listens intently, realizing how interconnected her life has become with the Force and its users. The Inquisitors, she learns, have expanded their reach, hunting down any who show even a flicker of connection to the Force. As the conversation unfolds, Shosmi gestures towards the compass Arya had selected from the Proprietor. “That compass will guide you to what you need most,” she says, her tone serious.
Arya’s heart aches with loss, not only for Nora but also for the uncertainty of her future. She can’t help but feel that the pursuit of knowledge and connection to her heritage as a Force-wielder is more important now than ever. Arya prepares to follow the path laid out before her. The loss of Nora and tense clash with Clem are stark reminders of life spent lurking in the shadows. Arya knows that she must continue her journey, for herself and for those who once stood in her corner. The adventure is far from over; in fact, it’s only just begun.