𝖁𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎 !
XI. PHANTOMS

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FOR KERA VERR THERE would forever be pain and suffering buried in her past. No matter how far she flees, no matter what system she escapes too ── Kera is haunted by phantoms drowsed in nightshade which loom in ugly shades of decay, devouring flames, drenched in blood, incessantly wailing in agony. Every breath, every heartbeat are a clock, ticking and chiming, a sickening and cruel reminder of the anticipated inevitable.

     A monster hisses a whisper in her ear, icy breath fanning at her neck and a shiver runs down her spine. Kera fights on instinct, even if deep down she knows it's useless. Wind gushes at her ears, dancing in her inky tresses and Kera is tumbling, falling, body limp in a dark void.

    Those sickening words echo in her mind, engraved in her heart. You were always meant to lose.

     Then Kera collides and splashes against a mass of water as she arises, gasping for air, it was then that her senses inform her that the liquid is not water. The metallic smell, the stickiness and thickness of the liquid. . .

Sharp fingernails claw at the flesh at her bare feet and legs, tugging and heaving Kera below the surface. Bubbles rise from the back of her throat and instantaneously it is easily recognised in her nightmare is crueller than she originally suspected because she's drowning in gushing crimson blood.

And the past that she cannot escape.

Stars rake through the obsidian skies. A young girl no older than ten with swirling galaxies in her brown eyes looks to the twinkling lights in the sky and her heart fills with homesickness and aching sentimentality.

It wasn't out of the ordinary for Keirah Dorwin to look to the stars. It was completely normal. In fact, the girl was known to have a head in the clouds, never looking on her feet on the ground.

The few that knew her true identity as a Princess of Naboo seemed to believe that it was the aftermath of such a privileged upbringing but in reality, it wasn't the truth. It was far from it.

A rich and jovial voice of her uncle wavers through the air, stilling her movements, "You shouldn't be out here at this hour, Kee."

Keirah smiles sheepishly and turns to face her uncle Morham. Bathed in the lamplight from the lamp in her uncle's grasp, Morham returns her lopsided smile, his short dark hair framing his gentle and intelligent eyes. Morham Dorwin was a good and responsible individual, an inventor and mechanic who lived on the outskirts of the village far from prying eyes. He had taken Keirah into his home almost immediately after Feyn died.

Keirah remains the same, despite her uncle's words, legs crossed beneath her as she returns her gaze to the stars. Her uncle steps forwards, settling beside his only niece on the old blanket she placed beneath her due to the grainy sand.

   "You know that he isn't coming back to get you. It's the only way to keep you safe, kiddo."

Keirah can feel her eyes burn with brimming tears. She knows deep down her uncle is only trying to be kind, attempt to save her from the pain that only seemed to grow as the days eventually passed. Keirah knows that there are events she can never speak of, even talk of the Jedi pulses with danger. Kera knows she is not to speak of the Jedi Master in any circumstances but the words fumble through her lips. "Ben promised to collect me when I am safe. He once promised mama to look after me if something happened to her, Morham."

"I know," Morham agrees in confirmation at the truth, his voice wavering, remembering his older sister. "But you are safe here, hidden and concealed. You are more gifted than you are aware of Kee and there are cruel people somewhere in this galaxy who will try and take that from you. L-Like they did with your mother. Being stowed away with that friend of your mother's would just put you both at danger."

Keirah aches to say something along the lines of how she doesn't care ── that being separated from Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi she considers to be her father, her family, is something she never once wanted or desired.

She loves her uncle, she does, but it isn't the same. She loathes Jedha. It's a cold, sand filled system and she's bored a lot of the time with absolutely nothing to but tinker with the discarded broken transports and ships. And sometimes, a lot of the time, the reprogrammed Imperial droid is her only company as her uncle works.

Her new droid which she repaired herself and reprogrammed too ── K-3SO is clingy, overprotective and follows Kera about constantly, mirroring the girl as if the droid was her shadow. But the droid is her truest and most dearest friend.

Keirah nods grimly. Although she won't admit it, Morham is very much right. And what is worse many many cycles later ── that Morham Dorwin right about too many things that night.

It was then that it began. An Imperial dropship shoots fast across the atmosphere, then to slow and prepare dangerously close to opposite ends of the village to land. Fear ebbs it's the way through Keirah's stomach, twisting and coiling tension in her muscles.

     Morham is pulling Keirah to her feet, his large calloused hand from years of work tugging at her wrist. It's a horrid feeling because she knows. Of course, she does. The Empire is here for her. They want her for the blood that runs through her veins.

Morham and Keirah make their way inside the safety of their home. Keirah is shaken riddled with thoughts yet she remains stagnant as her uncle rummages about through cupboards filling the rucksack to the brim with necessities.

      "Keirah," Morham commands, kneeling before his niece with his hands secure on her little shoulders, before unclasping a chain from his neck. The pendant flat, smooth, made of a strange silver shiny metal, the markings of their family crest engraved in its middle.

      Morham smiles sombrely and clasps it upon Keirah's neck, "This will protect you on your journey. Stick close to Kaythree, you hear? No matter what you hear. No matter what you see. No matter what. You leave Jedha and you travel to Sorgan. I have a trusted friend who once served your mother, an ex-Republic guard and skilled marksman. You shall be safe there."

      Morham smiles, leaning forwards and presses a gentle kiss to his nieces forehead and quickly embraces Keirah. Keirah is crying once her uncle releases her. Morham didn't have to tell her but she already knows that he isn't going with her and K-3SO.

     "I don't want to leave you," Keirah confesses and something in her heart squeezes and suffocates. She doesn't think she stands that she might possibly lose someone else.

      "You must. No matter what. Now, you are not to ever reveal your name. The Dorwin name is well known all across the galaxy. You are the only child Feyn Dorwin. They will know you are instantaneously, Kee."

       "Please," Keirah pleaded. "Please come with me, Mo."

      The door to their home was kicked down, two stormtroopers adorned in ivory armour from head to toe, charcoal blasters in their grasp, ready to aim and fire on command.

     "Affirmative, commander. We've found the designated targets. Both match appointed holographs. Inform Moff Gideon──"

     Expeditiously, a towering reprogrammed Imperial droid at ease swings a punch to a stormtrooper sending the Imperial solider flying backwards, knocking them out cold. K-3SO expertly handles the second the stormtrooper at ease but each attempt to defend themselves is rendered useless. Kera winces sickening sound of when K-3SO breaks the stormtrooper's neck.

     White optics flare against night and meet Kera's own stigmatized brown eyes at what she had witnessed. "My diagnostics calculate the chance of capture has declined from eighty-three percent to sixty-seven percent if we escape in the next few moments."

    Morham stands shakily pressing the rucksack to the droids already awaiting hold. "Protect Keirah. No matter what."

     K-3SO deep slicer rounded head nods and turns to Kera with a beckoned robotic hand. Keirah up to her uncle for assurance and he nods with a slight slender smile. "Don't be afraid now, Kee. You'll always have me. . . Now go."

Keirah looks to her uncle one last time, her vision blurred by the tears that rain down her caramel cheeks. Keirah nimbly follows after K-3SO, her hand clinging to the droids own hand and together in the darkness walk away from there home.

      No matter what.

      It was so human that Keirah looked back soon after she and K-3SO vacated the village.
Tears hadn't stopped slipping from her brown eyes. That feeling in her heart only worsened when she heard the screams.

Keirah stopped moving, her booted feet stagnant in the chilled grainy sand. She now refused to abandon her uncle or the innocents of her village.

Looking back, Keirah could see the scorching fire devouring homes. Red streaks of blaster fire echoed and echoed with each heartbeat.

   A scream ebbed from her parted lips when a direct blaster fire collided with K-3SO's robotic arm and his shoulder plate, flinging the droid downwards onto the sand as if it was nothing. Those glaring white optics dim and then flicker to nothing.

Seconds later, some sort of tranquillizer dart meets the exposed flesh of Keirah's neck making her stumble backwards, woosy and sleepy until she falls backwards onto the grainy sand, unconscious and unaware that she is now a captive of the Empire.

        And somewhere, on a system far away from Jedha, a lone Jedi Master in his exile awakes in a cold sweat from his slumber.

Kera gasps awake from her sleep, jolting upright in her chair, her brown eyes instantly peeling open to the newfound familiarity of the Razor Crest. Her fingers grip at the armrests, aiming to ground and remind herself more importantly that she is safe. That those Imps can never lay a hand upon her again. That all those innocent lives that were taken that night by those aching for nothing but mere power were not her fault.

A gentle and concerned coo breaks through the empty silence and snores of her companions. Startled Kera looks to where she finds the noise to the child gripping and hugging at her leg. Then child lifts his little arms, a notion and possibly a demand to be held. Immediately, Kera lifts the child in her arms, to be nestled close to her chest.

Kera looks out towards the windscreen to see the twinkling, dazzling stars. She misses her mama and her papa so so much. All she aches for was a chance to say goodbye, for the pain and torment in her crumpled heart to be put to an end. Kera knows that a part of her has never healed from Order 66 the night her mother was murdered in cold blood and even worse that night on Jeha when her very soul is stained in crimson blood. But sometimes some scars never heal, sometimes not even the ones you can see. . .

A little green hand presses against her cheek, capturing Kera's attention. Weakly, Kera smiles and meet the child's bright eyes despite how her own brown eyes grow glossy with sudden tears.

   "Thank you, kiddo," Kera whimpers, her voice cracking, a single tear shimmering like stardust cascading down her cheek. The child's long and slender green ears lower in sympathy. It is so much harder than Kera recognises: vulnerability. She is aware that she has spent so long alone, exiled through periods throughout her life due to the ancient power burning in the blood her veins ── but to reveal a part of her even without words is so hard, even to a poor child who doesn't deserve to witness Kera in such a messy, spangled state.

And it's so hard to chip away the facade she's held up for as long as she can possibly remember, even if it is for a short while.

Kera is even unaware of herself when she hums delicately, a sweet and delicate croon. She cannot remember the lullaby in its entirety but once upon a time it was something her mama once sang to her ── now it soothes her shattered heart and coaxes the child to return to its abandoned slumber.

Eventually, the sight of the planetary system of Trask ebbs closer and an alarm rhythmically beeping tugs and returns the others from their restful state. Already Kera's shifting backwards, letting Kera Verr slip back over Keirah Dorwin, to become her flawless and indestructible facade.

The modulated baritone of the Mandalorian washes over the cockpit, vanishing the sleepiness from his passengers instantaneously in preparation of what's to come, "Looks like we made it."

"I am surprised," K-3SO contributes, fingers gripping Kera's headrest by her seat. "Very surprised."

Kera snorts but smiles without a worry in the world. "Yeah, that joke Mando made before really got the gears rolling about the possibility of my untimely death. . . Actually, I think it was all of us."

The Mandalorian tinkers with the controls on the dash, much too preoccupied to care for what Kera was yapping away about. "Get ready for landing."

   "Dank farrik!" The Mandalorian curses, his fisted hand hitting against the landing array.

"The landing array isn't responding," The Mandalorian informs, flicking switches and pressing buttons on the dashboard. "Without the guidance system, it'll be a manual re-entry. It might get a little choppy."

Kera winces at the Mandalorian's words, knowing the even odds without K-3SO's assistance, she knows that choppy is a complete and utter understatement. The child looks to Kera worry spinning in those bright brown eyes.

"It'll be alright, kiddo. Your papa is a good pilot," Kera whispers before in what feels like a natural, comforting notion delicately presses a kiss to the child's wrinkled forehead.

(However, Kera's words do not go unnoticed by the Mandalorian because he always listens, she just never knows it.)

The Mandalorian prepares for the landing, continuing to flick switches and press numerous buttons and informs the others of what should likely occur, "Once we're through the atmosphere, there should be just enough fuel to slow down. If we don't burn to a crisp."

   "Save the dramatics, please," Kera supplies with the child secure in her grasp, her jaw taut. "We're all gonna be just fine."

The descent through the atmosphere is choppy ── and rapidly Kera can feel the fire etching it's way against the fabrication of the Razor Crest. Heat plummets its way through and Kera can feel how the oxygen is heavy against her lungs.

"Kera," The Mandalorian grunts, quickly earning Kera's attention. "Come up here. I need your hands!"

The child is pressed to K-3SO's awaiting arms and staggards forwards to the controls.

   "This lever needs to stay back. Can you──" The Mandalorian commands, only to be interrupted by Kera Verr.

"I know! I've got it!" Kera soothes, securing the lever forwards. Her brown eyes fixed firmly against the windscreen which was glazed in red and orange fire.

   "Keep it steady," The Mandalorian informs Kera and then mutters to everyone, knowing what it to occur, "Here we go."

Kera knows that they're descending too fast to land. This is a walking disaster. Kera could have fixed this and she knows that she is the one to blame. She knows could've fixed this. She should have checked the damn guidance system and all the controls and switches.

An unfamiliar voice urgently drawls through the intercom, "Razor Crest, this is Trask flight control. Please reduce your speed to port protocol."

   "I'm trying my best here! Engage reverse thrusters. Brace!"

The Mandalorian pushes forwards a lever and Kera braces for what's to come, wincing every time she feels bits and pieces of the Razor Crest fly off. Kera squeezes her eyes shut.

"Hold on," The Mandalorian commands his passengers.

Again the flight control buzzes through the comms, much more urgently, "Razor Crest do you copy? You have to reduce speed."

   "Almost there, almost there," The Mandalorian braces.

   "Razor Crest, do you copy?" The flight control lady asks.

"Shut up, flight control lady!" Kera growls in annoyance.

"Razor Crest you're coming in too fast. You have to re. . ." The Mandalorian switches off the comms unit.

Kera fills with relief when the thrusters provide a slower descent, ready to land upon the pre-prepared landing pad and it looks like everything is to be just fine.

The Mandalorian says, "Here we go. Nice and easy."

Kera almost wants to scowl knowing that the Mandalorian has jinxed them when the right thruster gives way, flickering and shutting down in a blaze of smoke, only to have the Razor Crest dart sideways and merged with water in the body of saltwater.

Body of water gushes, dripping down the curves and edges of the Razor Crest a crane lowers and attaches itself to the body of the Razor Crest, heaving it out of the water it had emerged in. The crane turns, settling the Razor Crest upon the landing pad.

Kera snorts at the fact it's a miracle that they are all alive and breathing before sarcastically exclaiming, "Now, that's what I call a truly happy landing."