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[kyber-ki]

Searching for Something

Jedi Survivor - Cal Kestis x F!Reader

part 1 here

[kyber-ki]

Searching for Something

Jedi Survivor: Cal Kestis x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.6k

Summary: you're a prospector on Koboh, under the impression that you're assisted by simple luck and good hunches. When you catch the eye of the local Jedi, you slowly realize that it might not just be a case of good luck after all. And maybe, just maybe, your paths crossed for a reason.

Teaser:

“You’re the Jedi,” you mumbled, and the smile dropped from Cal’s face as your anxiety coursed through the air. It was jarring, overwhelming, for him to receive those emotions through the force this close to you.  “Yes. I just… heard you calling,” he said slowly, and you just glared at him, lips parting in surprise.  “I didn’t call anyone,” you stuttered out, the hand holding the blaster out faltering.  “That’s not true. And I think you know that,”

Cal stood from his meditative stance, stretching his neck from side to side and releasing the breath he had been holding. The lights flickered above his head, a brief pause from the constant low hum they emitted. He could feel the familiar beat of a song BD-1 particularly enjoyed from the cantina’s setlist reverberate through the floor. The noises here never bothered him, not after all those years on Bracca where the sounds of jacks, drills, stuttering ship engines, and screeches of saws had chewed into his brain night after night. No; here the sounds reminded him of comfort, of the pleasant but bustling atmosphere of Greez’s saloon that he had begun to recognize as his temporary home base these last few weeks. The trunk in the corner had slowly begun to fill up higher and higher with his belongings. Cal wasn’t surprised to see BD-1 lounging with both legs extended out beside him. The little droid tilted his head to the side, antennae twitching as he greeted Cal with a series of chirps. 

“Yeah bud, I’m ready,” Cal said down to him with a soft smile. BD-1 sprang up, scampering up to his usual perch across Cal’s back. 

“Let’s go find Greez.” 

***

The doors to the main room opened, unleashing the music and swarm of overlapping voices at full volume. It was a sharp contrast to the quiet peace that followed his daily meditation, but Cal welcomed it with open arms. He shuffled past a few familiar faces, nodding to Mosey as she raised her half empty glass in greeting. It seemed like the cantina was getting busier and busier every day, but today there were more fresh faces of prospectors lining the bar than Cal had ever seen in one place. They spoke in excited but hushed voices, the eccentric music provided by DD-EC, who had a tendency to keep the volume a few ticks too high. Despite the complaints, the droid had refused to budge, saying something about the fragile ears of organics. 

Cal continued to maneuver his way past the small crowd, sliding into the stool next to Greez. He laid one hand to rest on the cool bar top, head quirked to one side as he tried to overhear the commotion. 

“Greez- what’s with all the excitement today?” He asked the latero, who was busy shuffling around the concepts for his new menu items. 

“Cal! I couldn’t tell you what those guys are all worked up about. All I know is that they showed up with healthy appetites and have been slinging credits all over the place. I need to prep a new menu. You can be my test sampler,” he said with excitement. Cal chuckled at that. He was never one to turn down Greez’s homemade creations.

“Sure, Greezy-Money. I’ll be back later- BD and I have some things to look into today,” he explained, mind already wandering back to the meditation chambers that he had yet to explore. He longed to hear the centuries old-lessons of Santari Khri, to feel the awe that accompanied the massive and intricate builds. It was a similar feeling to what he had felt in training sessions with Master Topal, and again years later with Cere. Though Santari Khri was long dead, Cal had begun to foster an understanding of her teachings, and through them, an understanding of the Jedi herself. She had wisdom to share, if he only took the time to listen. BD-1 seemed to enjoy their journeys in the chambers as well, the hours of exploring often accompanied by countless relics for him to scan.

“Back to the wilderness he goes,” Greez muttered as he flipped back and forth between two displays on his datapad. “As long as you’re back for supper,” he added pointedly. 

“Sure thing,” Cal said, pushing off the bar and out of the stool once more with a creak. As he passed by, he heard one of the prospectors, a short human man, trying to wrangle his companions. 

“We should just ask her! I’ve spent two weeks in that sector and pulled up nothing. She must have found a deposit hidden away in the cave system. There’s no other explanation. Maybe there’s another spot she knows of,” he said, and he was met with faces of doubt. 

“You’re not listening, Isaiah. There’s no mystery gold mine we skipped over. The girl has a talent for this sort of thing,” another man whispered, and he wiggled his fingers.

“There’s gotta be a little something special at work there, if you ask me,” he said, with a serious expression. 

A scoff rang out.

“She probably just has a background in geology, that’s all. Identifying the mineral content and locating the deposits, that’s the only explanation. The girl has keen eyes and an education. Don’t start with your psychic banthashit again,” another prospector snipped back. 

Cal’s eyebrows rose at that. So, a successful prospector. That’s what had drawn in all these prospectors to Rambler’s Reach. Cal didn’t often feel a need to interfere with prospector business- aside from the group that went missing. His nose turned up slightly as he remembered the giant claws of the Rancor emerging from behind the big stone pillar down in the mine. Yeah, that had turned him off prospecting for the most part. Though, he and BD-1 had their fair share of luck in stumbling across priorite shards. 

Continuing past the group, Cal let their bickering and hyper force signatures fade into the background. He stepped out of the saloon, the blazing Koboh sun striking his face. Cal allowed himself to fall into a comfortable rhythm on his way to the stables, feeling the familiar weight of his saber swing gently against his hip. His blaster was tucked safely within the holster that ran across his chest. The heat was thick today, and he had left his jacket behind, letting the slight breeze cool his arms. 

“BD- how far are we going again?” He asked, and his companion pulled up the holomap quickly. The beacon was further than Cal remembered. But the itch to revisit the chamber, without the constraint of time weighing on him, was too strong to deny. 

“Alright. Let’s go,” Cal vaulted over the fence of the stables, and approached the blue Nekko that he had brought in the night before. 

“Hi again, friend. Feel up to some more exploring?” The Nekko nuzzled its head down into the palm of Cal’s hand, and he took that as a yes.

***

You strained, arm pulling at an uncomfortable angle that made your teeth grit and muscles burn. The rock wall you were currently dangling on had seemed like a simple enough climb. That was before the rock shelf began to quake, the series of handholds you had mapped out for yourself coming loose and cracking down into the depths below. Confusion had deemed you temporarily frozen in place, until you put together the sounds of mechanical drilling and clipped tones from the path through the rock ahead. Damn stormtroopers. You weren’t sure what they were searching for, but you weren’t pleased to find yourself this close to whatever the operation was. 

Your fingers burned and you couldn’t help but grimace as the jagged edge of the rock face dug into your palms. This wasn’t ideal. Swinging your legs as much as you could bear, you cursed and swung your arm up. The ascension cable shot forward, finding its mark in the jumble of vines at the top of the cliff. You dropped momentarily, and then were pulled forward roughly as the cable tugged you along its arc. Your side slammed into the rock, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. 

“Oh, come on,” you wheezed out, bloodied fingers clutching the vines tightly, grateful to have found purchase. The cloth of your gloves had shredded in the journey, and you rendered them useless.The air was dense with the scent of lush greenery, and it crowded your nose almost uncomfortably.

Still clutching the vines, you breathed air in, then back out. In, and out, until your racing heart calmed enough that you no longer feared it would burst from your chest. You continued the trek through the greenery, boots tucked securely amongst the tangled jumbles and fingers sticky from where your nails had cut into the vines. The top of the cliff face was nearing, and you sighed with relief once you finally pulled yourself over its edge. The rocky terrain seemed to be behind you for now; ahead was a new world of bright colour and exotic floral scents. Like a rainforest, almost. But more overpowering than the scents and the visual picture of the new landscape was the instinct driving you forward, insistent and sure.

You could feel something coursing through the air here. Something refreshing, powerful. In some of these little pockets of Koboh, you felt strangely integrated into the environment. The sounds of the strange insects, birds, the path of the wind as it wound through the rock columns with a gentle whistle. It was at times like this, when you felt ultra connected to the world around you, that your best priorite finds came to be. Today, you would be lucky. You could feel it. Like all the other prospectors fluttering around this planet, you were simply doing your job. You just happened to be really, really, good at it. And your hunches had yet to steer you astray.

A modulated voice barked out words you couldn’t quite make out, and you ducked behind the dense foliage. You tugged your blaster free from where it was lodged in your belt, and you couldn’t help wincing as your blistered fingers found their grip. Shucking off your shredded and blood spotted gloves, you peered through the branches, trying to catch a glimpse of the imperials ahead. A team of two stormtroopers blocked the path, one of which was operating some sort of drill, the other pointing and trying to direct his companion. Squinting, you realized they were trying to bust their way into the old metal doorway partly masked by vines and built into the rock. 

You’d given up on those mystery doors a long time ago, same as everyone else on Koboh. Without any real permanent residents, there wasn’t exactly a historian you could consult. They remained one of those unsolvable Koboh oddities. And those troopers could throw every power saw and explosive they had at that thing. It wouldn’t open.

Shrugging the fabric of the thin shawl out of your face, you adjusted your crouched stance and raised your blaster into position. You couldn’t help the look of disgust that crossed your face as you watched the fools bicker back and forth. Tired of hearing their voices, you poised your finger over the trigger and silenced one of them. The blaster smoked at the end, the plasma having sent the first trooper down to the ground. Too easy. The second whirled at the noise, dropping the drill with a clunk and raising his own blaster. Before he could locate your position, you dealt with him too. 

Stepping out of your concealment, you made your way over to the fallen troopers. The dirt crunched beneath your boots, the songs of avian species you couldn’t name ringing out into the ravine ahead. As you passed, you peered at the drill dropped at the feet of the troopers. You couldn’t blame the empire for wanting into that doorway. Your curiosity piqued as you reached forward to trace the strange doorway with your fingertips. It was cool to the touch, and remained undented despite the rocks that had undoubtedly crashed against its surface. They had been trying to drill underneath the entranceway without much luck. With one last look at the slumped forms of the troopers, you continued on with your search. You had credits to earn.

After another hour of hiking through the thick, dry vegetation, your boots were coated with dust and your muscles ached with the effort of climbing. The area around you was all jutting rock columns and dry moss. There were ruins of old watchtowers and outposts here too, though your focus remained further beneath the ground. The path you followed curved down sharply, revealing an extremely worn lift platform. The control panel was partially busted, and sparks flew sporadically when you pushed the level into position. After a moment of flickering lights, a deep hum rumbled through the ground. The platform rose quickly, sliding into place with just a bit of turbulence. Cursing, you stepped onto the platform, praying for the best. It lurched beneath your feet, and you spread out both arms, knees bending to maintain your balance. You tried not to think about how old this thing was. It brought you down into the depths of the rift, and your heart raced with anticipation. 

Stepping off the lift, you marveled at the large fallen basalt columns. There was stone everywhere, and light vegetation scattered many of the rock faces around you. You scampered over columns, climbed pillars and vine covered cliff sides until you could feel that you were there. Ahead, a sheltered alcove was tucked beneath a curtain of stringy yellow-green vines. You ducked inside, and took a breath. Closing your eyes, you let your hands fall upon the walls of the miniature cave, feeling where you needed to go with both your fingers and with that instinct in your mind leading you. After a few minutes of searching, you knew you had it when your index finger slid upon a new texture. The shard was formed into the layers of rock, and with a little pressure, it would give away. Flipping a small toolbelt down from your waist, you grabbed a pick, flicking on your lightstick and setting your eyes upon the shard. It was a decent size, the iridescent shimmer of the priorite glistening in the odd blue-ish hue of the lightstick you held. You pried it free, tucking it safely into the small leather pouch concealed within the pocket of your vest. Satisfied, you stood to your feet and shifted the vines aside. The journey back would be simple, with your path already charted and grappling points readily available. 

You had made it back to the old doorway again when you felt a wave of alertness course through you. It was an odd sensation, and one that left you sucking in a quick breath. You climbed high into one of the massive trees, crouching back against its pale beige trunk. You blended in nicely, in your sand-coloured shawl covering and faded trousers. The blaster you always travelled with was clutched in your hands once more, tight enough to worsen the sting of your blisters. You couldn’t see anything, even from this high vantage point. It was time to head back to Rambler’s Reach.

***

Cal flung himself to the next cliff face with ease, assisted here and there by a quick tug of the force and an encouraging chirp from the droid on his shoulder. The sun blazed even higher in the sky now, and he longed for the darkness and coolness of the meditation chamber. He was nearly there, according to the holomap. The lush nature of the far reaches of Koboh were a small comfort to Cal, and he found himself revelling in it. The trees and dangling vines thickened significantly, though they were dealt with by one twitch of Cal’s hand, lightsaber drawn and emitting a cool white light. Continuing to trek his way forward, Cal tried not to stumble as BD-1 flung himself down in front of Cal, one metal leg tapping the ground desperately as he beeped and whirred. 

“Find something, BD?” Cal asked, and the droid scanned something laying in the dropped leaves of the foliage. Cal frowned. A pair of shredded gloves lay discarded in the underbrush. He dropped into a crouch, inspecting them briefly. 

“Huh. Not sure, BD-1. Let’s keep moving,” Cal muttered. Continuing on, he spotted the metallic glint of the chamber doors, still sealed, before he noticed the bodies of the stormtroopers littered at its front. Cal frowned, and unclipped his lightsaber from his belt cautiously. BD-1 chirped again, scuttling forward and scanning the bodies and equipment that lay beside them. 

“They won’t get in by brute force. I wonder what they want from down there.” Had someone else managed to find their way into the old order chambers? The placement of the bodies seemed to imply it. Cal had yet to run into company in any of the other chambers. But he had to be ready for anything. 

Igniting his saber, he clicked the device in his pocket and the door unlocked. Stepping over the fallen stormtroopers, he was about to step foot on to lift inside when he felt something that make his head snap up immediately. 

“There’s someone nearby,” he said, heart fluttering in his chest. There was something unique about the force signature that he was sensing. Someone was brushing through the force, scattering little murmurs through it. It must have been deliberate- after all, most force sensitives knew to cloak their signatures to avoid detection of the inquisitors. Cal had a rising suspicion that this was just some sort of new trick by the empire. After he had destroyed the holocron, he had dreamt of finding more force sensitives. But things hadn’t exactly gone the way he had dreamt they would. It was best to stay on high alert.

Cal stepped away from the mediation chamber, his plans for the day forgotten. He followed the little echoes of the force, leading him further and further into the basalt rift ahead. 

***

Taking out the pouch once again, you shifted the priorite shard between your thumb and index finger. You had started the venture back to the old loft apartment you rented in town, but had the majority of your journey still left ahead of you. Despite having found a decent haul, you still felt an itch to keep looking. Like there was something close, something you should search for. You felt strange, like there was an energetic, almost twitchy presence nearby. It was accompanied by that same twinge of alertness you had felt earlier, but you didn’t necessarily feel like running this time. Your curiosity almost urged you to seek it out, to find the source of the sensation. But Koboh could be dangerous, and curiosity on this planet tended to get people killed.

Tucking the shard away once more, you patted your blaster and sprang up. Continuing on with your hike, you slipped past another squadron of troopers, creeping quietly though the brush as you skirted around them. They weren’t worth your time. 

***

Cal ran through the rocky hills, dodging the spine-covered creatures rolling along the path. He desperately followed the force, sensing that he wasn’t far behind now. Voices could be heard up ahead, and his excitement peaked. Bounding forward, saber unlit but held easily in his palm, Cal bounded into the clearing and narrowed his eyes. No, unless one of the stormtroopers happened to be a force user, this little squadron was not the source of his intuition. 

“Hostile spotted!” One of them shouted, firing his blaster immediately. Cal ignited his saber, deflecting the plasma shot directly back to the chest of the trooper. With a flick of Cal’s wrist, the other two went cascading down the cliff face. A final trooper stood, arms trembling as he raised his blaster. 

“Jedi! It’s just you and me, now,” he called out, firing a string of blaster shots in Cal’s direction. Cal sent them flying in different directions, tugging the trooper forward and dispatching him with one swift arc of his saber. 

That had cost him a few minutes. He continued on with an even more determined pace than before, whistling for the Nekko to meet him. 

***

In the distance, a hooded figure was scaling the rock face quickly, jumping from ledge to ledge, agile fingers maneuvering carefully through branches and vines. Beige wrapping covered their arms from the elbows to the wrist, and Cal squinted, trying to make out if there were weapons concealed beneath that thin hooded cloak.

“Let’s get a little closer, BD,” Cal cautioned, dismounting the Nekko with a gentle pat on the side of its neck. 

The figure ahead reached the top of the stone pillar they had been scaling, disappearing over the side with a little leap forward.

Cal put his upgraded ascension cable to work, springing to the top of the pillar with a grunt. 

As Cal stood to his feet, BD-1 chirped in alarm from his back. Spinning around quickly, Cal stopped with his fingers wrapped around his saber. Looks like he had found that force signature. It was pulsating into his awareness in the force, almost like a tracking fob. 

A blaster was trained on his chest, the bandaged hands grasping it held steady and firm. 

“You’re trailing me,” a female voice drawled from beneath the hood. Your gaze flicked down to his hand, which hovered hesitantly on his saber. 

“Don’t even bother. I’m not a bounty hunter and I don’t get paid for racking up corpses. What do you want?” You asked, tone still neutral despite the weapon pointing at his vital organs. 

“I’m Cal. This is BD-1,” he started, lowering his hand away from his saber. 

“And I’m not interested, sorry. I keep telling you people I don’t want a partner. I do my searching alone. If you want some tips, we can talk it over at the saloon like everyone else,” you said.

“Searching?” Cal questioned, honest confusion coating his words. 

You sighed. The hand not trailing him with the blaster coming up to toss the hood out of your face. Your features were smudged with dust and dampened with sweat, sporting an expression of fatigue combined with exasperation. 

“You’re… not a prospector then?” You ask, more cautiously now. Stepping back from him then, your eyes narrowed as you assessed him. Your gaze raked over his form, from his windswept hair to the droid clinging to his back. Your eyes caught on the unlit saber hanging from his belt, and they widened, skipping again to his fiery hair. 

“Oh,” you said, a little dumbly. Cal offered you a shrug and a polite little smile. His reputation had begun to spread throughout Koboh, even amongst the prospectors that didn’t spend much time in town. 

“You’re the Jedi,” you mumbled, and the smile dropped from Cal’s face as your anxiety coursed through the air. It was jarring, overwhelming, for him to receive those signals in the force this close to you.

“Yes. I just… heard you calling,” he said slowly, and you just glared at him, lips parting in surprise. 

“I didn’t call anyone,” you stuttered out, the hand holding the blaster out faltering. 

“That’s not true. And I think you know that,” the Jedi said softly, as if not to frighten you.

You took another step backwards, deciding that this Jedi was a lunatic. You’d heard rumours that Jedi were incredible warriors of course, but that they could also be cult members, following a strange code. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, with a finality in your tone. Shuffling back another step, trying to put more distance between you and this Jedi, you went back too far and your left foot teetered back over the edge of the rock pillar you stood on, your heart dropping to your stomach. 

The Jedi darted forward, two fingers gripping your belt and preventing gravity from clawing you down to the chasm below. Stunned, your blaster fell to the ground with a clatter, and you gripped onto the Jedi’s forearm with both hands. You could feel the muscles of his arm as he held your weight. He tugged you forward gently, enough for you to land both feet back safely on the rock before he released you, stepping back and giving you space. 

“Kriff,” you gasped out, heart still racing. You braced one hand on your knee, and looked up at the Jedi.

“Thanks for the save,” you said, and he nodded.

“You all good?” He asked, handing you back your blaster, the handle facing you. You tucked it back into your belt, and looked back up at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” you said, embarrassment flushing your cheeks pink. 

“Look, I wasn’t trying to freak you out-” he starts up again, and you sigh. 

“I’ve been alone all day. And I certainly wouldn’t be making all sorts of noise calling you over here. Not with all the imps crawling around,” you said, disgust evident in your voice.

Cal hesitated before answering. Were you playing dumb, or did you really not know the ability you had been tapping into in order to communicate with him? He couldn’t help but feel a little distraught. This was a new situation- was he supposed to try and explain the workings of the force to you? To insist, against your protests, that you had indeed been reaching out to him through it? He made his choice.

“My mistake,” he settled for, and you shot him a funny look.

“What are you doing out here, anyway? A little far from town, aren’t you?” You asked quizzically. Cal shrugged his shoulders. 

“I’ve just been exploring. There’s a lot to see on Koboh,” 

“Yeah. Sure is. I was just heading back to town. And if you decide to quit the whole Jedi Knight thing, this is a great area to get into prospecting,” you said with a smile. 

Cal laughed.

“Right. I’ll keep that in mind,”

“Sorry about the uh,” you nodded down to your blaster. 

“It wasn’t personal. You just can’t be too careful these days,” you explain, offering an apologetic half-smile. 

“I hear you. Between the troopers and the raiders,” 

BD-1 chirped, scurrying down Cal’s pant leg and pausing in front of you. You glanced down, flinching under the brief but bright green light of his scanner. 

“BD-1, we’ve talked about this,” Cal chastised him lightly, and you laughed. 

“Hi little guy,” 

BD-1 beeped at that, which you took as a good sign. 

“I’d better get going. See you around, Jedi,” you said, tucking your blaster away.

He smiled.

“Cal,” he reminded you, and you nodded, face bright with a little amusement.

Continuing on foot, you trudged back towards Rambler’s Reach, only turning back once a few minutes had gone by. The further you walked, the less you felt that flicker of warmth, the strange presence that seemed to have awoken. In the distance, you could’ve sworn you saw the mysterious metal doors slide open and close, with only a flash of red hair as a clue to how it had opened. 

***

It was a few days before you ran into the Jedi again. You walked the streets past Pyloon’s Saloon, head pounding in the sweltering heat that persisted even into the late evening. After another day of hiking, climbing, and doing your best to dodge the imperial squadrons littering Koboh, you’d decided that you had earned at least one glass of spotchka. It was becoming a bit of a habit of yours.

The security droid guarding Pyloon’s Saloon trained its red gaze on you, and you dug the tip of one scuffed boot into the dirt impatiently. After another moment’s delay, the doors opened with a gentle whir of air, and you sighed in relief as the controlled air cooled the sweat sticking to your sun-warmed skin. 

The cantina playlist was kriffing awful, as always, and you winced as it invaded your eardrums. Patrons were scattered across booths, tables, and crowding the bar. 

Over the chatter, you heard someone shout your name, and you turned expectantly towards the sound. Oh, here we go again. 

“Hey guys,” you greeted the group of your fellow prospectors. You recognized Isahiah, Klotho, and Vedi amongst the group, and smiled at them. While they were sort of your competition in the priorite industry, you’d made a point to keep friendly and on good terms with anyone else you ran into on Koboh. Though, you couldn’t help but to keep them all at an arms length away. The last time you’d made a friend, it had ended poorly. Your heart lurched at the thought of the one person in the world you had let in, and how they had been taken from you. The empire had taken them from you.

Your mind jumped back to the present.

“Any good finds today?” Klotho asked you, and you shrugged.

“Nothing too exciting. I kept running into those damn stormtroopers today. It’s getting harder to get around them,” you explain with a sigh. The others nod; murmuring their agreement. 

“We thought maybe you had another one of your hot spots on the map,” Isahiah probed, and you offered him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, no luck this time, Ahiah,” you admitted, tossing his nickname in to soften the blow. When business was slow, you tried to give some help where you could. But between the imps and raiders, business wasn’t exactly booming. 

“That’s okay, kiddo,” he says, and you clap him on the back gently. 

“I’ll come find you if anything changes,” you yelled, over your shoulder. You spotted a free stool in one corner, collapsing down into it and raising a hand in greeting to the bar droid. 

“The usual?” It asked, and you nodded with a smile. The glowing blue liquid sloshed into the glass, and you raised it in tired cheers to the droid. 

You were about to take that much anticipated first sip when you felt something. Swiveling slightly in the stool, you straightened your back and faced the entryway for a moment. The chatter of the room was still swallowed up by the music, and you held your breath as you waited. The door remained closed, and you turned the stool back to face the bar. Stupid. You had thought maybe, just for a moment, that you had felt the Jedi from the other day. It was like knowing when someone was watching you, but turning to find nobody there. Maybe your intuition was worn down, replaced by paranoia. After all, you weren’t a psychic. And you certainly weren’t a Jedi. 

The spotchka burned down your throat, the initial sweetness of the liquor lingering on your tongue. You were about to down the remainder of the glass when you felt, or rather, heard, the saloon door open with a whir. 

Cal walked through the doors, and they shut closed behind him with a faint woosh. The alcohol turned to lead in your stomach, and you sucked in a sudden breath at the sight of him. The confirmation of your senses was as discomforting as it was shocking. Fear, alarm, and distress flooded your mind, and you let the rest of the alcohol in your glass glide down your throat. 

Cal paused in the entryway, head tilting a little as if he were scanning the room for someone who had called his name. The gesture caught you off guard, and your eyes widened of their own volition. At that moment, Cal’s gaze snapped over, eyes locked on yours. You tried to look away quickly before he caught you watching, without success. You had a sudden flashback to the other day, to the way he had shot forward reflexively quick. The thought of his fingers gripping the front of your belt so easily suddenly felt inappropriate, and you tried to push away the image of his tensed muscles as he had held you from plummeting off a cliff. 

“Hi,” he called out over the music as he approached you, leaning against the bar. His little droid stood tall and proud as ever on his shoulder. 

“Hi,” you managed to say, and his gaze dropped down to your empty glass. 

“Long day?” He asked, and you nodded. The long sleeves of his shirt were pushed back to the elbows, and he wore a leather bandolier draped across his chest. This time, your eyes caught on the unlit weapon clipped to his belt. You tried not to stare. 

“Yeah. Something like that. It’s funny, I swear I could tell you were about to-” you broke off with a slight shake of your head. 

He waited patiently for you to continue, but you didn’t, opting instead to twirl the empty glass against the bar top. 

“You never told me your name, the other day,” he points out, and your cheeks flushed with warmth. Right. Simple courtesies. 

You gave it now, reaching a hand forward in a gesture that seemed to fit the scenario. He reached his own hand forward, hesitating for just a moment. Your eyebrow tugged down at that, and you were considering whether or not you should have taken offense when he slid his hand into yours, shaking once quickly before releasing. You try not to wince at the pain still residing on your blistered hands. 

You were suddenly hyper aware of the fact that your hands were still partially wrapped with thin strips of bamadages, making you look like one of those professional fighting athletes from coruscant. Your blisters were in the slow healing process from your rough climb the other day, and you were well overdue for a break from the rough terrain.

“You all good there?” He asked, eyes dropping down to your wrapped hands. 

You nodded dismissively. 

“Yeah, just a rough climb the other day. My gloves are shot and the damn scrapes won’t stay closed,” you muttered.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You shot out, before he had the chance to spark up any more pointless small talk. Cal fought back the urge to narrow his eyes at the urgency in your tone. He nodded, urging you to go ahead. BD-1 booped curiously, tapping one foot as he fought the urge to scan your bandaged hands. Cal appreciated his restraint. 

“Back in the Basalt rift the other day- some troopers were trying to bust in those metal doors. They were going to town on it with drills and explosives, and they couldn’t make a dent. But I could’ve sworn I saw you get the Kriffing thing open when I was heading back to town,” you elaborated, staring at him and awaiting his response. 

Cal smirked.

“You were watching me,” it was more of a statement than a question, you realized.

Pink creeped up your neck and to your ears. 

“I wasn’t,” you started, feeling embarrassed for a moment before snapping out of it.

“If I’m remembering correctly, and I’m pretty sure that I am, you trailed me through the woods,” you said with a sniff. 

Cal chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand before letting it fall back down. Your eyes jumped to the veins webbing across the back of it briefly before you focused your attention back on his face. 

“I told you yesterday- I was just following the force,” he said with a shrug. You frowned at that. The force. 

“I was in the meditation chamber though,” he admits, and you leaned forward, eyes narrowed intently. 

“What?” 

“The doorway you mentioned. It’s an opening to a lift, from centuries ago. It leads to ancient Jedi meditation chambers. They’re all over Koboh,” he explains, and you have to admit your interest has been piqued, thoughts flying around quickly in your head. 

“Well, how’d you do it? People have been trying to get in there for ages. And nobody had any clue what could’ve been down there. For as long as I’ve been here at least,” 

“It’s a long story,” he said, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out something with a dull sheen. In between his index and middle finger rested a disc long worn by time. A passkey, then. 

“Jedi chambers, huh. What’s it like down there?” You probed, voice lowering and laced with genuine curiosity.

“It’s strong, down there. The force presence is so rich. I haven’t felt that many other places. This whole planet is connected. And the abyss…” he trails off then, a thoughtful determination painted across his features. One hand reached up to rub at the stubble lining his jaw, and he sighed.

“I don’t like that the empire is sniffing around them. I’m not sure what they plan to do once they get down there, but I don’t think we want to find out. You made quick work of them the other day,” he said, a complimentary lilt in his voice. 

You wondered inwardly when the two of you had become a ‘we’, but were surprised to find that it was a little comforting. It was tiring, being the only one striking back against the empire’s presence on Koboh. Even if it wasn’t for entirely selfless reasons. At least Cal had BD-1. Unlike him, you were completely alone. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t particularly like running into them either. Between the troopers and the Bedlam raiders, it can get pretty ugly. They’re spreading out further, too. I’ve been seeing them pretty much everywhere, even the more remote areas,” you say, with a shake of your head. 

“Yeah, the raiders are a whole other issue. We’ve had quite a few run-ins with them too, haven’t we, BD? Not to mention the bounty hunters,” The droid beeped his agreement. You started at that. Bounty hunters? 

Cal just continued on speaking. 

“They’re looking for something bigger here. And Rayvis… There's a lot of interest in Koboh. But BD-1 and I still have a few other chambers to explore. You’re welcome to tag along sometime,” he says, and you consider the offer for a moment. 

You reminded yourself that you don’t know this guy- and you weren’t sure if you could trust him, Jedi or not. But the draw of the underground chambers tugged at something deep in your chest. You wanted to see it, and now more than ever, you wanted to know if you would feel anything there. 

“Yeah, maybe. Thanks,” you say, and he just nods, standing back up straight. 

“Sure. I’ll see you around,” he says, pushing off of the bar top and skirting his way around the crowd, disappearing into the back of the cantina. You didn’t have to watch him. Even with eyes still trained in the bottom of your empty glass, you could feel him drawing further and further away. 

***

Two days later, you’re sipping on spotchka again, enjoying the warm dull sensation that coursed through you. Arms crossed over the bar top, you decided to rest your eyes for a moment. The bar was nearly empty, the sun long since set. Most of the town had gone to bed hours ago. You knew that sleep wouldn’t find you tonight, so why not quit while you were ahead? If you had enough to drink, maybe you’d get lucky and pass out right here. It wouldn’t be the first time.

A more somber tune than usual played from the sound booth in the corner. Given the hour and lack of customers in the saloon, it was easier than ever to wave down another glass to replace the empty one in front of you. Your head was light and airy, and your limbs were flooded with a tingly warmth. Enjoying the feeling, you let out a long breath. Closing your eyes again, you had an idea.

Focusing on what you could hear, you noted the sound of the whirring refrigerators, the shuffle and clinking noise of a glass being filled with ice. The grumble of voices, maybe from the upstairs section of the bar, followed by a quick cheer. And behind that, further away, the chirping of night insects. 

Still pinching your eyelids closed, you moved along to the sensation of touch. The bartop was cool against the skin of your forearms, and you suppressed a shiver. The glass you grasped with both hands had been sweating, dampening your fingers. Breathing in, you could smell the sterile scent of cleaner, and the sweetness of artificially flavoured alcohol behind it.

Another breath out through your nose. Rolling your shoulders back gently, you reached with your mind. It was difficult to tap into that awareness- for a moment, you had felt it, but then it disappeared just the same. It kept just out of reach, and you strained to grip onto it again. A flicker in your mind sparked, and you tried not to get too excited at the success. Something skirted just at the edge of your mind, and you could feel something. No, not something, but someone. Maybe it was just the buzz you had worked up talking, but you weren’t so sure. Like a campfire burning in the distance, you could feel the emitting bit of energy. It was warm, almost cozy. You felt drawn to it, but just as you began to consider what you were even doing, or how you were doing it, the feeling vanished completely. Once again, you were just a drunk idiot, sitting alone at the bar with your eyes squeezed shut and head in the clouds. 

Downing the rest of your drink, you stood up on your tiptoes, leaning your chest over the bar. Where did that damn droid go?

“Hello?” You asked, trying not to wince at the loud sound of your voice. Nothing answered you, just that low buzz of the appliances and distant footsteps from upstairs. Did that droid have to get charged? Maybe you had actually fallen asleep a moment ago, and you had been dreaming after all. 

Another few minutes went by, and you picked at the hem of your shirt idly as you waited for the droid to return. The empty glass on the bar taunted you.

With a loud sigh, you glanced around in a quick swivel of the barstool. There was nobody else on the lower level, at least. And you did consider yourself a friend of Greez, the cantina owner. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if you skipped behind the bar, just this once. 

Standing up again, you looked around once more before boosting yourself up onto the bar, then dropped down behind it. The bar looked different from back here, giving you a full view of the floor and booths that were usually crowded with patrons. Scanning the row of bottles on the shelving, you searched for the familiar bright blue alcohol that you were craving. 

You had to hand it to Greez- having a droid bartender meant that the bar was perfectly polished. It was organized well, except for a giant pile of papers labelled “menu ideas” that featured a messy drawl of handwriting and some poorly drawn doodles of dishes and presentation inspirations. 

The glowing blue of the spotchka bottle caught your eye, and you snatched it up quickly, popping the lid off and whirling around to grab your glass. You were in the midst of pouring a hearty serving when you heard the mechanical whoosh of a door opening. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you fumbled to re-cap the bottle, mind stuttering as you tried to find its home on the organized shelf. Placing it back with a clink, you turned around. The front door of the saloon remained closed, and you tilted your head to the side slightly in confusion. Had you just hallucinated hearing the door? 

But no, you could feel the dull thump of footsteps approaching, and you realized with a pang of dread that it had been the inner door, the one leading from the basement level to the bar. Stars, Greez was going to be pissed.

Hands braced on top of the bar, you were attempting to silently scoot your way back across to the patron side when Cal appeared from around the corner. You froze, and he stopped in his tracks for a moment too. He looked confused for a moment, his eyebrows lifted as he took in the sight of you, ass plunked on the bartop with your legs dangling over the edge. 

You swallowed nervously. 

“Hey, Cal,” you said, scooting the rest of the way down. Your boots hit the floor with a thud, and you offered him a strained attempt at a smile. He said your name back in a slow greeting, and you could do nothing but watch as his gaze shifted from your reddened cheeks to the overfilled glass sitting next to you.

Cal smirked as he put the pieces together. 

“I didn’t know Greez let customers make their own drinks,” 

You shrugged. 

“Yeah, well. He should get better bartenders. Empty ship over here,” you gestured to the deserted bar. Since you were already caught, you plunked down onto the stool once again and picked up your glass. Spotchka sloshed over the sides, adding another coat of alcohol to the already sticky bartop. 

“Are you gonna sit down or what?” You asked him, using the toe of your boot to pull out the stool next to you. Cal let out a soft chuckle, then took his place next to you. BD-1 chirped in greeting.

“Hi bud,” you said back, and he booped again before scampering off of Cal’s back and into the bar. His little head tilted to the side and you were blinded by that familiar green light again.

“Stars, BD-1, my eyeballs,” you groaned, and Cal shot you an apologetic look. BD-1 chirped a string of binary, and Cal frowned in response. You weren’t used to seeing him frown, and the sight of it alarmed you a little. You squinted at them both- your binary was rusty on a good day, and was considerably worse through the fog of spotchka clogging your senses. 

“Agreed,” Cal said back to the little droid. And then you were holding your breath as his head dipped close to yours, your heart thudding quickly in your chest. This close, you could see the freckles dusting his cheeks, his surprisingly long lashes. You noticed the scars that jutted across his nose and eyebrow, but your gaze didn’t linger on them; you had your own fair share of scars. 

Cal plucked the glass out of your hand and leaned away again, and your brain finally caught up. 

“Hey-”

“BD-1 is concerned by your blood alcohol level. He’s identified some symptoms that you might be in for a nasty headache. His scanner doesn’t lie- you’ll be thanking us tomorrow,” he said matter-of-factly, just before he dipped his head down and took a steady sip of the alcohol himself. 

“I thought Jedi weren’t supposed to drink,” you muttered with a bit of a pout, drumming your fingertips against the bar idly. 

“All things in moderation,” he said simply. You hummed in response.

“What are you doing here so late?” He asked.

“What does it look like?” sighing, you scooted your stool closer to his, and he looked at you expectantly. Leaning in close, you tilted your head as you studied the green of his eyes again. You waited for him to look away, to let you win this little staredown you had started. He didn’t. He just watched you back, a calm neutrality painted across his features. 

“I was winding down. I don’t know what happened, though. I must’ve dozed off or something. I was just-” you broke off, with a slight shake of your head.

“You were just what?” 

“What?”

“You do that a lot. You start to tell me something, but then you back out,” he stated. You frowned.

“I don’t know. I was sitting here. Resting my eyes, just listening. But I must have fallen asleep and I guess I had a weird dream for a couple of minutes. I could feel this light, and I wanted it. I wanted to be near it,” you explained poorly. Cal shook his head softly. 

“You weren’t dreaming,” 

“And you must be a lightweight,” You laughed with a small snort, and reached over to steal your drink back.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he said gently. 

You took a small sip of your drink, but it was sour and harsh against your tongue and burned all the way down. Fear prickled across your skin like little needles, and you suddenly felt the heat of Koboh catch up to you, even in the controlled cooled air of the saloon. 

“It’s not something you need to be afraid of,” he explained, shifting in his stool to face you properly. You remained silent, downing the rest of the glass. The alcohol hit you quickly, and you welcomed it. 

“You never asked what I was doing here,” he pointed out, and you grabbed the change of subject while you still could. 

“Okay. What are you doing here, Cal?” You probed, your throat dry. 

“I could feel you, reaching out. And I know you could feel me too,” 

“Cal, come on. Enough. I really don’t-” your words came to a halt as you spotted Cal’s hand extended towards you, his palm facing the ceiling.

“What are you doing?” You ask, disbelief and irritation creeping into your words.

“Go on. See if it feels familiar,” he suggests. 

“I’ve shaken your hand before,” you point out. 

“I’m showing you this time. No holding back, no shielding,” he says.

“Showing me what?” You barked out, and he just nodded down to his hand. BD-1 stands still as a statue atop the bar, observing the interaction. 

You scoffed, and decided it was worth it just to shut him up. Your hand shook, and you took a deep breath in before daring to touch him.

Your fingers slid atop his, and he welcomed the touch, letting his eyes flutter closed. His thumb settled atop your hand and brushed across your knuckles. 

You gasped, and though your eyes were wide open and your mind was fuzzy, you immediately recognized the energy, the warmth. It was the same presence that was teasing your dreams and coaxing you gently towards it more and more each time. Cal. That tug you had felt all those days ago, the instinctual draw within you to keep searching for something you couldn't name. Now that you could see him like this, feel him, your mind was calm for the first time in a long time. 

Cal opened his eyes, and gently let go of your hand. You fought the urge to reach forward and grasp it once again, to feel the quiet peace that his touch seemed to bring to your mind.

“There you are,” he smiled. “You weren’t dreaming earlier. You were meditating. And I came here because I could feel you reaching, wanting me to come to you. Through the force,” 

“The force? Come on, Cal. I feel things sometimes, but I’m not like you,” you tell him, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. He shook his head slowly.

“No, you’re not like me. I’ve been trained for this since I was a child. Did you ever even know what you are? What you could be?” He asked, more intently now. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know anything about the Jedi. I don’t know anything about the force, and I’m not sure I even want to,” you say simply. 

“Look," Cal spoke softly, a sympathetic expression across his face.

"Whether you meant to or not, you’ve been calling me through the force for weeks. It’s like you’ve been sending out a ping, calling anyone with a connection to the force straight to you. If there were an inquisitor in this system, they would be on your tail before you could even try to run. And trust me. You don’t want to know what they would do to an untrained force sensitive like you,” he warned, and even through your fading buzz you could hear the bitterness in his voice, feel the darkness in his words.

“Let me help you. I can show you, just enough to hide your force signature and keep yourself safe, if that’s all that you want,” he offered, leaning forward. His eyes searched yours for something, and after a moment, he saw it.

“Okay,” you whispered, and he sucked in a breath, some of the tension melting away from his face.

"Okay," he agreed.