Chapter Text
"Master?" Sera asked in a hushed tone. "How do you know when a dream is more than a dream?"
Her Master hummed in acknowledgment as they both sat at the table aboard the transport.
"How do you feel when you wake? Does it invoke something from deep within? I suppose if you want to think too hard about it, dreams are never really just dreams, young one."
Sera dropped her head to the table with a groan. "Must you always be so cryptic?"
His boisterous laugh filled the air. "You should know by now that unfortunately comes with the territory of being a Jedi."
"Clearly..."
Seriousness painted his features, the breakfast and teasing forgotten, with mild concern tingeing his voice. "But why the question, Sera? The nightmares have returned, haven't they?"
She hesitated at the thought of sharing what she sees every night. When she slept, it was not just a dream, but her spirit had been called somewhere else entirely. It's a dark purple and black abyss dotted by the countless stars of the galaxy and beyond. Asteroids dot the distance and bar any from entering or leaving. And by the stars was it cold, like death itself had her in its grip.
Then there was the pillar of ice, sculpted intricately with unrecognizable patterns she failed to research.
But there was someone inside the ice. She knew it, could feel it, and it birthed a sense of dread within her that Sera could not describe with mere words, nor why. Never could she make out more than their silhouette when she approached it, and if her hand ever managed to touch the icy prison--snap--she awoke unable to breathe.
"No, it's not those nightmares. It's most likely nothing important. At the moment at least," she lied, even if it was merely a half-truth. Sera hated lying to him, and how often lies slipped off her tongue with ease. Fear wasn't something she was supposed to give into, but she was afraid—of what the dream meant, of what the others would think of it, of what would happen to her.
Sera gave in to only one fear, and it was to protect herself. Yes, that's exactly what it was: self-preservation. Not as noble as many Jedi should be, but it was a fault she could fix later, when the dream was gone.
Her Master stared at her for a moment too long before giving a gentle nod. "I won't push you. Now, we have some time still before arriving on Alderaan. Time to practice your forms."
With a thump, her head dropped back to the table. Maybe she should talk about the dream instead. It would be easier.
"You're always too hasty in your movements. Breathe, relax, Sera."
With a resigned sigh, Sera readied her stance once more, the movements etched into her mind, but her body felt sluggish to respond. The weight of her saber was heavier than it should be in her hand. Her senses were never as heightened as they should be, despite her best efforts to sharpen them with a mental whetstone. Instead of the force helping her--serving her movements--it felt as if it hindered and pushed back as she performed the set.
The hum of her indigo blade grating in her ears as frustration set in; once again told to repeat.
"I don't think this form is for me." Or any form we've tried she left unsaid.
"You do prefer more aggressive ones, don't you? Ah, youth. You need to slow down and master that before you can barrel forward. Aggression does nothing for you except make you vulnerable."
Sera furrowed her brow. "You mean that both figuratively and literally, don't you?"
Her Master hummed with a warm smile. "Failing is part of learning. Learning to adapt is the best lesson it can teach."
She sheathed her blade and sat down for a moment to collect herself. Her mind drifted back to visions of that starscape of her dreams. The chill of ice settled on her shoulders as the outline of whomever was trapped within passed her gaze. Her body went heavy like a weighted blanket was thrown onto her shoulders.
Everything went dark and cold.
"I... think I need some rest and time to think on what you've said, Master, if you'll excuse me."
Despite pondering on his words and putting them to practice, Sera struggled the rest of the trip. The dream did not cease, and every attempt to practice gravity itself, felt as if it were acting against her. Her entire being had been thrown off balance; out of focus.
But they had made it to Alderaan. Her Master eagerly (despite the mask of formality he tried to hide it under) awaited whatever assignment they'd been tasked with. All Sera knew was that a tomb was uncovered with Jedi artifacts inside dated back to the Old Republic. Cataloging everything and studying what they found did not sound the most exciting, but it was better than the unsettling feelings her training had been giving her as of late.
Her Master and their assigned guide prattled on about the possibilities of what could the items be, and what knowledge they held? The nineteen-year-old couldn't be bothered to pay attention to the details. Something kept her attention far better in the back of her mind. A forceful pull yanked her attention deeper into the tomb. It called to her focus, her very core, and broke into a cold sweat much like when she awoke from that dream.
Her feet moved on their own until she found herself alone in a stone outcropping. The pull drove her to a carved-out cubby, and the ornate chest within it. It was suffocatingly cold around them. Sera lost all ability to breathe when she opened the chest and compulsively picked up the item within. An ancient saberstaff, intricate and ornate, but heavy with emotions. It took all her strength to not buckle beneath the emotional weight crushing her from whatever force scar this item held.
The ground beneath her rumbled as the suffocation worsened and Sera caved in on herself, and so did the surrounding rock. Tears fell as she crashed to her knees. Memories and harsh burning hatred, despair all not her own but still consumed her from the inside out.
Then, stillness.
With a deep breath she steadied herself.
She looked down at her open palm and clenched into a tight fist. A wash of confusion spread over her. This was not her hand. The ache of metallic bones, gone. Confusion turned to frustration upon further inspection of herself and the surroundings. Where the hell was she? Static sparked around hand as she punched the fallen rubble. A shockwave of energy broke away the rock but the sickening crack of bone rung in tandem. She gripped her saberstaff tightly and grit her teeth through the pain. She'd been through worse, much worse. All she needed to do was find out where she was, and why none of her cybernetics seemed to be working. She clipped the staff to her belt to feel her face and gasped. No scars, no cybernetics, nothing but fresh youthful skin.
A man's voice called to her from feet away, but she did not understand him. She did catch what she thought was a name. Sera.
To the best of her ability she tried to remain calm, hide her energy, and not look the Jedi before her in the eye. What the hell happened? Last she fully remembered was fighting on a... battlefield... Did she die? After everything she'd been through, a minor skirmish is what killed Darth Nox?
Pain shot up her arm and she collapsed to her knees clutching it. She feigned, with little trouble, being too preoccupied with pain to speak. Dizziness took her right before it went dark.
Sera opened her eyes to that cold starscape, and the first thing she realized was that the ice was broken from the inside out. Hair stood on the back of her neck as a presence radiated from behind her.
"Who are you?" She asked, turning around. A shock ran through her as she took in the figure. A young woman, only a few ears--maybe half a decade her senior-- stood tall and regal before her, examining the surrounding landscape. She was the spitting image of her twin, if not aged up. They had the same shade of red hair, green-blue eyes, and even their faces down to the freckles were the same. But the aura surrounding her was decidedly corrupt and dripping with the dark side. Her eyes flashed yellow-orange when she took a hard glare at Sera and huffed.
Metal implants ran down the middle of her cheeks with scars to match and other small cuts on her temples. It moved as she spoke, but less in tandem and more as if controlling every shape of her words. "I suppose you are this Sera." She stood, arms behind her back and staring down her nose at her.
"An answer for an answer."
Curiously, despite the standoffish demeanor, she nodded in compliance. "Very well. All you must know is I am Nox, and given that look of bewilderment on your face, you've never heard of me.”
"Sera... Am I supposed to know who you are?" A quick once-over again of her companion's dark foreign attire. "I'm going to make an educated guess you're no Jedi."
The look of disgust at the mere notion on her face confirmed it. "No. I am not. Unbelievable. I am stuck attached to Jedi padawan of all things. Fate has a sense of humor."
"That lightsaber. You're the one I felt when I touched it, aren't you?"
Nox scoffed. "Where else would I have come from? Now I'm trapped in here. Again."
"Again?"
"Not important. Now, I'm going to play nice for now, rest assured, but I need you asleep if I want to figure this out." Nox waved her hand, and heavy fatigue gripped Sera, forcing her to collapse.
Her eyes flashed open and winced closed at the liquid that rushed them. Nox shook her head to get her bearings, and her limbs moved slowly against the liquid. Blinking, she looked around, panic setting in as she realized the breathing apparatus on her, confined in a tube, her lungs shut off, and no amount of gasping let in air.
Not again, not again, not again--
The tank rumbled as she wanted out, but before Nox could break herself free, it began to drain.
An attendant droid was at her side and coached her out. She slapped it away and remained frozen in place.
"Oh, thank the stars, Sera, you're alright," came a familiar voice. There was no possible way. No. No, it couldn't be. She dug around that stupid Jedi's memories enough, how could she have missed this? Yet, when Nox looked up, a much younger Lana Beniko was standing before her with a Jedi padawan braid and attire. She could only stare, and memories of an angry (not that she'd admit she was crying) Lana overlapped with the present. The final goodbye and the unexpected reunion. What did she do to gain fate's ire?
Lana put out a hand and Nox took it without thinking. "What--Where am I?"
"Aboard a transport back to Coruscant. Your master cut the expedition short after your accident. What did happen exactly? Trap? I knew you were clumsy, but even you shouldn't have been bested by a simple trap.”
Nox stood frozen with no words to even begin to falsify a story. This was all so much. She looked down at her (Sera's) formerly broken hand. With a flex, she felt nothing. If she listened closely, she could hear the whir of mechanics as she flexed. So, broken beyond repair. If she was to continue to possess this body she'd need to train it better than whatever Sera had been doing.
"Yeah, it was a trap. Triggered when I grabbed that saberstaff... By the way... where is it?"
The subtlest twitch to Lana's brow. "With the other artifacts? Why?"
She shrugged it off. "No particular reason. I merely didn't want it lost after what I went through to get it."
Lana quirked her brow and pursed her lips, giving Nox a deadly familiar look, but said nothing. The attending droid examined her arm's functionality and the rest of the body's vitals. Despite her initial panic, everything was in working order, and the droid excused itself.
"Now that we're alone," started Lana in a hush as she closed and locked the door. "Mind telling me who you actually are?"
Nox froze mid-dressing. "Beg pardon?"
"Besides your speaking cadence being off, you need to work on hiding your energy. Stifle that darkness, besides, it's cold. Familiar, but definitely not Sera's. So I ask once more, who are you?"
"Familiar? Of course, you're familiar to me," Nox muttered.
While trying to figure out what angle to take at the moment, Lana's voice rang close to her ear. "I'm relieved you could recognize your wife after all this time."
"How," she gasped.
"Have I ever told you, you talk too much?" Lana brought her into a tight hug; which Nox enthusiastically returned. The comfort of Lana's embrace never failed to bring even the mightiest of tempest inside her to calm. All of this revelation was too much, but none of that mattered in her arms.
It was cut short as Lana hastily broke away. "When we have landed, I'll try to explain things, but for now, lie low. Focus on hiding your energy and perhaps let Sera back into control until we can talk. You can still call me Lana, fate would have it."
"I--"
A pointed glare from Lana shut her up.
"Fine."