"Some among us challenge the last line of the Jedi Code. 'There is no death, there is the Force.' How can we say such a thing when our fellow Jedi, our friends perish on a daily basis? How can we deny that we've lost them? Yet, we never truly lose the ones we love. They are with us in our hearts, and they are with us as part of the Living Force." - Kao Anugh, from Collected Wisdom of the Jedi Masters

"I know you're in there, you piece of rebel scum!" one of the stormtroopers shouted from outside the Z-95. "Open up!"

Pete set Patrick's hat down on the dashboard, and he turned toward the door, his vision still blurry with tears. If Patrick were here, he might have whispered "Holy smokes" and ignited his lightsaber, but he was gone, and Pete wasn't Patrick. He never could be.

As one of the stormtroopers picked the lock on the door, Pete sat in the captain's chair, passively pushing buttons in an attempt to launch the ship before they got inside. However, he didn't particularly care if that happened. He didn't even care if they killed him. He felt empty inside, like there was a Patrick-shaped hole in his heart.

The stormtroopers finally burst through the door and started shooting, and Pete held up his blue lightsaber in a weak attempt to block their shots. However, the stormtroopers were lousy shots as always, and none of their blaster bolts managed to hit Pete. He didn't even have to try to defend himself. With marksmanship this poor, there was no chance of the stormtroopers hitting him at all, let alone killing him.

Within a few minutes, R1 finished launching the ship, and it began to rise into the air. Pete shoved the stormtroopers off of the ship with his lightsaber, and he immediately locked the door as the ship headed into the upper atmosphere. Then, he slumped back into the captain's chair, realizing just how alone he was in the universe.

The only person who truly understood him was gone.

He tried to distract himself by reading over his old poetry, but every bad poem reminded him of Patrick. There was always a line about baby blue eyes or falling in love with his best friend, and now that Patrick had disappeared into the Force, he couldn't bear it. Sometimes, he even read the verses in Patrick's voice. He needed something to take his pain away, but the only thing that ever made him feel better was Patrick. Now, he wasn't sure if anything could ever make him smile again.

Eventually, he turned to the Jedi Masters of the past, hoping that they might give him some consolation, but reading their words didn't help either. They always pointed to the Force giving eternal life, but even if Patrick really was out there somewhere, on some other plane of existence, it didn't make Pete feel any better. He'd never get a chance to see him again, a chance to make more memories.

Besides, what justice was there in killing a sixteen year old? Patrick had done a lot over the course of his lifetime, but he'd never gotten the chance to experience all that life had to offer. To Pete, it felt profoundly unfair that Patrick was dead and he wasn't. Patrick was an angel, while Pete was just the boy who'd had too many chances. If the world was fair, maybe they'd both be alive right now, or maybe they'd be together in death. Maybe Pete wouldn't have an endless longing in his heart, a sorrow that would never go away. Maybe he would be okay.

Pete set a course for Taehwa, but he didn't know how he would face the other rebels when he got there, or how he would go on living without Patrick. Already, he knew the wheat fields on Taehwa would only remind him of the days he'd spent with Patrick, gazing at the stars, chasing him through the stalks, listening to his soul voice. He was convinced that Patrick was the one for him. Without him, he was hopeless.

Eventually, the Z-95 landed on Taehwa, and as he headed for the door, Pete couldn't have possibly felt worse. He shed another tear as he gathered up what remained of his beloved boyfriend, and just as he was about to open the door, he collapsed to the ground. "I can't do this, R1," he said.

Suddenly, R1 rolled over to the ship's control panel and opened the door for him. As sunlight streamed into the ship, Pete stumbled to his feet and started heading toward the base.

As soon as Pete left the ship, Mikey ran up to him and gave him a hug. "Pete!" he exclaimed. "You made it!"

"Mikey?" Pete said weakly. "I thought you were supposed to stay on Dagobah with Yoda."

"I finished my training," Mikey said. "Yoda made me a Jedi Knight." All of a sudden, a strange expression flashed across his face as he realized that something was very wrong. "Where's Patrick?" he asked.

"He's...he's..." Pete stuttered, but he couldn't finish the sentence. He buried his face against Mikey's shoulder, and he bawled his eyes out as he thought of Patrick once again.

Mikey was about to say something, but all of a sudden, Frank, Gerard, and Ray approached them. "What's going on?" Ray asked.

"Honestly, I don't know," Mikey said. "Pete's pretty upset though."

To say that he was upset was an understatement when it felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. He let out a few more loud, ugly sobs before trying to get a hold of himself. He took a deep breath in, and he tried to clear his mind, just as the Jedi Order had taught him to do. He knew that he had to tell his friends what had happened, but how could he do that now, when the wound was still so fresh?

Eventually, he turned away from Mikey, and as he wiped away his tears, he said, "It's Patrick. He...he didn't make it."

Pete immediately burst into tears again, and Mikey held him close, trying his best to make him feel better in any way he could. "I'm so sorry," he said.

"It's not your fault," Pete muttered. "It's mine."

"You didn't do anything, Pete."

"Yes, I did," Pete said in between sobs. "I was the one who convinced him to go to Vardos and fight Darth Vader. It's my fault that he died."

"But Vader was the one who killed him."

"Vader wouldn't have had a chance to kill him if it wasn't for me."

Mikey let go of Pete and then said, "It's not worth arguing over this. Listen, if you need anything, just let me know."

"I can help you too," Ray said.

"Me too," Gerard and Frank said simultaneously.

Despite their best intentions, Pete knew that his friends wouldn't be able to help him. They hadn't known Patrick like he had. They hadn't loved him. They couldn't possibly understand what he was going through.

Pete glanced toward the wheat field one more time, and then he started walking home, toward the tiny hut he'd once shared with Patrick. Even though there were plenty of people wandering around the piece, Pete felt more alone than ever. Normally, he liked talking to his neighbors, telling them how things were going, but now, all he wanted was to have Patrick back.

He had been so sure that their relationship was unbreakable, that the world could end, and he'd still have Patrick. He wished that was true. He wished that love could transcend death, but in the end, it just wasn't possible. He didn't care that Patrick was a part of the Force now, not when he'd never see him again, not when he'd never get another chance to hold his hand.

When Pete finally made it home, he opened up his copy of Collected Wisdom of the Jedi Masters and he started to read. It didn't help much, but at least learning from the great Jedi of the past kept his mind away from Patrick.

Over the next few days, that was all Pete did. He slept as much as he could, if only to dull the pain, and when he was awake, he read Collected Wisdom of the Jedi Masters cover to cover, over and over again until he could recite every word. Sometimes, one of his friends would stop by to check on him, but none of them could help him.

He wasn't the desperate type, or so he told himself.

One day, Joe knocked on his door, and Pete reluctantly got out of bed and answered it. "Hey Pete," Joe said. "I just wanted to see how you were holding up."

"How do you think I'm holding up?" Pete said.

"I'm really sorry about Patrick. I know it must be hard for you."

"I just miss him so much, Joe."

"I know," Joe said. "I've got some good news though."

"What is it?" Pete said, even though he was sure that nothing Joe could say could possibly cheer him up.

"Frank and Gerard are planning to come over later, and I heard Gerard's bringing you some comics," Joe said. "Also, I've been practicing my guitar, and I started working on a neat project you might like, and Andy's thinking of having us attack one of the Imperial bases in the Mid-Rim later this month..."

"What's the point?"

"What do you mean?"

"Patrick tried to kill Vader, tried to end Imperial rule, and he failed," Pete said. "What's the point of trying to fight the Empire now? If Patrick can't overthrow the Empire, then what hope do the rest of us have?"

"I think we can do it," Joe said. "It might take time, but the Empire can't last forever."

Pete wasn't so sure. Besides, even if Joe was right, how many more innocent people would die before the Empire finally fell?

"It's going to get better," Joe said. "I promise."

Of course, Pete didn't believe him. Joe hung around for a little while longer, but just like everyone else, he didn't get it. He didn't understand Pete's pain.

When Joe finally left, Pete went back to reading. As he flipped to the right page in Collected Wisdom of the Jedi Masters, he thought of Patrick again. He thought of his smile, his kind, loving personality, the blue-green eyes that Pete would never get to see again. Without Patrick, Pete felt like he had nothing to look forward to. There was no hope, no future. There was no reason to stay alive. 

A/N: Thanks so much for supporting this story! I'm probably only going to do a couple more chapters, and I'm not entirely sure what I'll post next. I might make a sequel to Star Wars: Saviors of the Broken, but I'm not sure if it's going to be right away. Thanks for reading, and stay tuned! :D